Roolz:: CSI and Lab Rat NoNo's
by A Rhea King
Summary: After seeing The Wall in Las Vegas, Adam decides to start one in New York. It's almost scary how these things develop a life of their own.
1. The Las Vegas Wall Spawns

**CSI: New York**  
**CSI and Lab Rat No-No's**  
**By A. Rhea King**

1) The Las Vegas Wall Spawns

* * *

Author's Note: Just like the franchise, spin-offs happened. If you like this one, you should also check out _Roolz:: Things A Lab Rat is Not Allowed To Do (Anymore) [CSI]_, and _Roolz:: Lab Rat Do-No-Morez (CSI:Miami)_. Even if neither are your favorite show, they'll give you a chuckle!!

* * *

Mac grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, switched off the light in his office, and headed for the stairs.

"Been a long day, hasn't it?" he heard Stella ask.

He looked back. She was coming up behind him, fixing her coat collar as she walked.

"Long is an understatement.

"Mac, do you have five minutes?"

He turned his head, almost running over Adam who was standing in front of him.

"Adam… Yeah. What's up?"

"See you tomorrow."

"You too, Stella. Do you have a minute too?"

She stopped and turned back. She came back. "I guess."

"Great!" Adam turned and tapped a button for the elevator. "I wanna show you something."

The two looked at each other with a slight shrug. Mac looked at Adam's other hand, noticing he had a box of chalk.

"Which case is this for?" Mac asked.

Adam stepped on the elevator and held it open for them. They joined him. Danny was jogging toward them.

"Hold the elevator!" Danny called.

"Not this one. Sorry!" Adam called back and quickly pushed the door close button, then hit the last basement button.

"ADAM!" Danny bellowed as the doors slid closed before he reached them.

Stella glanced at Mac. He looked as confused as she felt.

"Adam, what's going on?" Mac demanded.

"I want to show you something. I promise it'll be quick."

"This thing is in the basement?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"I'll show you."

"Just tell me, Adam."

"No. I have to show you."

"Adam, I'm tired. I don't have time for—"

"Last month, you told Sinclair you're trying to find ways to help build team spirit during the economic crunch, right?"

Mac hesitated.

"You shouldn't have been eavesdropping."

"Is it eavesdropping if I'm unnoticed in the elevator with you two?"

Stella smiled, looking down. Mac shook his head a little.

"I guess not."

The doors opened and Adam waved them to follow. The sign before them pointed to records A-M to the right, and N-Z to the left. Adam led them left.

"They do things really different in Las Vegas, know that?" Adam said.

"I imagine they do. What is this about, Adam?"

"Well, Greg – that's my cousin in Las Vegas."

"I remember. What about him?"

"He's on the graveyard shift and while I was there a couple weeks ago, we talked about the differences between you, I mean, CSI, here in New York and the ones in Las Vegas. He's a CSI too."

"You told me that also."

"Oh. Sorry. Well, they have this place in their building that just a few of the night crew know about. It's really cool. They get together and joke about stuff that's happened on the job and all." Adam stopped at a door and fished a key form his pocket. "I had to hunt down the key to this room. No one even knew about this room, but some janitor finally remembered it and gave me the key. I told him I needed someplace quiet to work on case evidence."

Mac sighed. "You haven't told me anything, Adam. Other than you lied to a janitor to get a key to a room no one even uses. Where are we, anyway?" Mac looked around him.

"That goes out to the street." Adam pointed at the nearby door. Above it was a broken electric EXIT sign. The window in the door was covered with grime. "I haven't gotten a key to it yet. Darnit! This thing sticks."

"Adam, I'm tired. I'm going home." Stella told him.

"No. Wait. I almost got it."

And the lock finally turned. The bottom hinge was broken so he had to lift up on the door to open it. He turned, waving them in and then flicked on the light. There was a single bare bulb in the center of the room, but it was coated on one side with dried mud, so only one side of the room was lit. The room smelled wet and musty – it hadn't seen a human in decades. The two walked in and Adam wrestled the door closed. The two CSI looked around the bare room, not sure what they were supposed to be doing.

Stella was the first to see it. There was a chair against the wall to the left of the door, and the beginnings of a list

**CSI AND LAB RAT NO-NO'S**

Underneath it he wrote:

**

* * *

1. When caught flying paper airplanes in the hallway, I should have a very good excuse for when my supervisor inevitably asks 'And why were you flying them in the hallway?'**

**2. It is wrong to want to touch realistic sex dolls in front of my female co-workers.**

**3. I should not mention how hot an avatar of a suspect is in the presence of a supervisor, or suspect.**

**4. I should not convince my co-workers there is an elf in the morgue, even if the M.E. does look a little like an elf in the right light.**

**5. I will not compare a co-worker to a Sim, even if he does something very Sim-like.**

* * *

The two turned. Adam was standing behind them wearing a grin. But it faded the longer the two stared at him.

"Well, see…" Adam started. "They started this wall, some lab techs did, in Las Vegas. Actually, they found it. Apparently there had been people writing stuff for decades and they sort of took it over. Well, Greg had this incident with luminol and he put rules up there so that no other lab tech would ever do it again. Well, more people were inducted into the secret crew, and they just keep adding more and more rules on the walls. They have over five hundred now!"

"Adam, you can't do this," Stella protested.

"B-b-but it builds team spirit. His supervisor and the head of the lab are even on it. They put rules up when the techs or CSI do things they aren't supposed to. And the very basic rule is that once a rule is on the wall, it can't be broken. Bent, a little, but not broken. Here. Here." Adam fished pictures from a pocket and handed them to the two. "That's their wall."

Stella took the pictures and passed them on to Mac as she quickly looked over them. She didn't notice Mac taking much longer to look at them.

Stella shook her head. "This is vandalism, Adam. You can't do this."

"But Greg—"

"Is in Las Vegas and I don't care what they do there. We don't do that here. You are going to clean this off the wall now. Right, Mac?"

Stella looked to him for support. He was still looking at the photographs.

"Mac?"

He didn't acknowledge her for several minutes. He glanced at her, and then looked at Adam.

"Give me the chalk," Mac told him.

Adam handed over the chalk.

"Can you hold this?" he asked Adam, holding out his jacket.

Adam took it. Mac opened the box and pulled out a piece of chalk. He handed the box to Stella and climbed up on the chair. In careful print he added:

**

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6. Reminding the mayor of any of the following can and will result in loss of pay: "Nothing gets built on schedule or within budget," "The myth about management is that it exists," "New systems generate new problems," "If you can't understand it, it is intuitively obvious," "The only perfect science is hind-sight," "Multi-million dollar technology is worthless in the hands of an ignoramus."**

* * *

Adam and Stella were both stunned. Adam shook it off faster. Mac turned and stepped off, looking Stella in the eye.

"Mac…"

"It's chalk. If anyone finds it, we can deny everything." Mac smiled.

Stella looked at Adam. He was staring at the floor, trying not to smile. She took a piece of chalk out and climbed up on the chair, writing:

**

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7. Never wear jewelry that lures toddlers.**

* * *

"Now what?" she asked as she stepped off.

"Well, now I'm going home and getting some sleep. Tomorrow I'll try to hunt down the key for the exit." Mac looked at the photographs again. "We'll have to find some furniture, but it's New York. That shouldn't be a problem. Sneaking it in might be. How did your cousin and his co-workers get others involved?"

"Well, they invited them, kind of like I did today. But they had a rule too. They had to have worked there for six months or more first, and prove to be able to keep the secret. Oh, and whenever someone decided they had to meet at The Wall – they call their place The Wall – the secret word passed around was pineapple."

"Pineapple?"

"Not so rare to hear in a lab. It happens," Adam told him.

Mac chuckled, handing Stella his chalk.

"Well, if we're going to do this," Stella started as she put the chalk away. "We have to invite Sid."

"And Danny and Don," Mac added.

"And Rita. She has to be invited. She's the keeper of all lab secrets," Adam told them.

"And Lindsay?" Stella asked.

"Yeah." Mac nodded. He looked up at the light bulb. "I'll bring a bulb tomorrow."

Adam was grinning when he looked at him. Mac held out the photographs. Adam traded them for his jacket.

"You did good, Adam. See you tomorrow."

Mac walked to the door and tugged on it, expecting it to open. He turned back to Adam. "And find a hinge. We'll fix this after work tomorrow."

"Okay. I'll get keys made, too."

Mac lifted it and pulled it open enough to slip out. Stella was right behind him.

The two walked to the elevator in silence and waited for it to return to the basement. Mac kept glancing down the hall.

"Are you really okay with this?" Stella asked.

He looked at her. "Yes. Why?"

"You look worried."

"Not sure how to get a recliner and sofa down those stairs. There's a bad right angle. I guess I'll make Don and Danny figure it out."

She laughed. "I have to admit, you surprised me back there, Mac."

"Why?"

"I didn't expect you to be open to his crazy idea."

"In Desert Storm, it was against the rules to keep pets – still is against the rules, but still happens. This cat wandered into our tent one day, and we kept it secret from everyone outside of our tent. It brought us closer because we knew we had to keep that secret, or the cat would end up being dumped somewhere and probably die. This may not be that extreme, but it can't hurt team moral to have a secret no one else knows." Mac shrugged a little. "And there's the added bonus of getting to write on the walls. I've loved that since I was a child."

Stella chuckled. "Who didn't? What did you guys name your kitty?"

"Kitty. We weren't very creative."

She laughed again. "So what became of the cat?"

"We were attacked one night and we were pinned down. She ran out into the middle of the battle and drew fire away from us long enough that we could bet behind the enemy and subdue them. She was killed."

"That's sad."

The elevator opened and the two stepped on. Mac tapped the first floor button before he looked at Stella.

"Not really. She was raised with a bunch of marines. She did what any good marine would have done – even if it might have just been instinct. She gave her life so her fellow marines would live."

She smiled looking away. "So you're a cat lover. I always thought you were a dog lover or pet rock type."

He didn't refute or admit to the comment.


	2. Inauguration

2) Inaugural Day

Mac walked into his office and saw a small gift sitting on his desk. Next to it a note with a key sitting on top of it. Mac hung his coat on the coat rack and walked over to his desk, picking up the note:

'_Finally found the key to the door you were asking about. I checked it, it hasn't been opened in years, but here's the key anyway. Let me know if you found any problems. I changed out the light bulb in the sign, too. Ron'_

He would surprise Adam at lunch with the key to the exit. He'd never tell anyone, but he was anxious to start cleaning up the room and get this started.

Mac sat the key aside and unwrapped the gift. Inside he found a key attached to a keychain with a small grinning, plastic monkey dangling at the end, and a note. The note simply read: _Pineapple_. And after years of reading her handwriting, he knew it was Stella that had written the note.

"So I guess you really do know what this is about."

Mac looked up. Hawkes stood just inside his office holding an identical keychain and a piece of paper. He unfolded the paper, reading to Mac, "Pineapple. See Mac for details. Tell no one." Hawkes looked up at him. "And it's Stella's handwriting. So what's this about?"

"Sheldon, were you ever in any clubs?"

"Band and Drama in high school. Nothing since. Why?"

"Meet me in records after your shift. We'll talk."

"Which side?"

"Outside the elevator."

"And what is this for?" Hawkes held up the key.

Mac smiled. "A clubhouse. Go get to work."

Hawkes started to question the answer.

"Work now. We'll talk later," Mac told him.

While it made Hawkes frown, he left, passing Lindsay on the way in with her own monkey key and note. He suspected he'd be talking to everyone they'd nominated to the crew today.

#

The elevator doors opened and the group greeted Mac. He hadn't expected them all to make it ahead of him. He noticed Stella and Adam were missing and wondered if they were waiting in the room, or still on their way. Mac stepped off the elevator.

"Thank you for coming," Mac started and didn't get any further.

"Why are we here?" Sid asked. "What's going on?"

"I have plans tonight, Mac. Is this going to take long?" Flack asked.

Danny was probably the least annoyed, but he asked the golden question, "We were told not to tell anyone about these keys." Danny held his key up. "But we all have the same key – we checked – and the same key ring. Sheldon said it was for a clubhouse. What the heck does that mean?"

Mac looked down the hall when Stella stepped out of the room and leaned back against the door with her arms crossed. She smiled.

"Have you guys ever been in a secret club?" Mac asked them. "Think back to when you were kids. Were you ever in a secret club?"

Minutes passed before Sid and the men admitted they had been, but Rita and Lindsay kept silent. Mac moved on.

Mac held up his key, letting the monkey dangle before them. He watched it swing while he spoke.

"Things haven't been easy around here. Tough, actually, with the staff cuts and the failing economy a breeding ground for crime." Mac snapped the keychain in his hand, looking at them. "And we aren't as efficient as we should be because we're all stressed. I can't speak for Rita, but we need to do something about that stress. A group activity."

"So this is group therapy?" Flack asked.

"Not… Really."

"Then what really is it?" Danny asked.

"Adam's cousin gave him an excellent idea for a team building exercise. We're going to use it. Follow me."

"Maaaaaac!" Lindsay whined.

He ignored her. He knew what was waiting at the end of the hall. He and Stella had spent their lunch planning the best way to start The Wall.

With a lot of muttering, mostly from Sid and Rita who kept telling Mac they weren't even CSI, the group followed him to the end of the hall. Stella disappeared back into the room before the got there. Mac stood at the door, waiting for them to come in before shutting it. He paused, swinging the door back and forth.

"When did this get fixed?"

"Adam and I came down here earlier to fix it," Stella said.

Mac shut it and turned. There was an old wooden table sitting in the middle of the room and old wooden chairs sat around it. Adam was sitting on the end of the table, and Stella had taken a seat. Mac glanced up at the light bulb. On his first break, he'd come down and changed it out. It revealed that the other side of the room had a pool of water from a steady stream that ran out of the wall, just under the ceiling. The pool drained through a crack in the floor. A light green moss grew around the edges where the water seepage ended. Just to be on the safe side, Mac had taken water samples, and some scrapings off the wall. The water was a little high in calcium and bacteria – not recommended for drinking, but otherwise harmless.

Mac noticed the five were looking at the blown up pictures Adam had hung around the room – they hadn't noticed the list yet.

"This is the reason you're here." He waited till they were all looking at him to point at the list.

He waited, giving the time to read the rules, and processes what this meant.

"I don't get it," Sid said. "I didn't write that."

"Me neither," Flack and Danny added.

Lindsay, on the other hand, grinned because she understood.

"So… we put rules up there for things we shouldn't do anymore, right? Like Adam flying airplanes and getting excited about that sex doll?"

"Yes. What are the rules about the rules, Adam?"

"Once a rule is added you can't do that thing anymore. Mostly."

"Mostly?" Rita asked.

"Well… you can't ever do what you did that made you write the rules. But in some might be bent."

"Some," Mac stressed.

Mac fished five piece of chalk out and held them up to the five. Lindsay took one, looking at it. She looked at Adam.

"Do we have to use white chalk?"

"It's all we have."

"Yes, but in the future do we have to?" She held up her key. "Since I'm assuming that's why we all have the same key, so we can come in whenever."

"Why not?" Adam asked Mac.

He shrugged.

"You got docked pay, Mac?" Danny asked.

Mac looked down, resisting the embarrassed smile. It was the first thing that had come to mind.

"Wait. We can't write on these walls," Lindsay said.

"No. It's okay. It's just chalk," Stella assured her.

"I mean, we can't write on the walls like they are. We should paint them." She looked at a photograph near her. "Where is this place in these pictures?"

"That's The Wall at my cousin's police station."

"The Wall?" Flack asked him.

"That's what they call it. We don't have to call it that."

"No. We can call it that. Sounds very secret club like."

"And they have a secret word to let the others know to meet at the wall. Pineapple."

"Pineapple?" Danny asked. "Really?"

"We could do something else."

"Like what?" Stella asked.

There was no answer.

"Mac?" Flack asked. "Any ideas?"

"I'm okay with pineapple, actually."

"So do you have to use it in a sentence or something?" Rita asked.

"No. Just walk up to a member, tell them pineapple, leave," Adam answered. "They pass it on to another member and so on. Then everyone knows by the time the shift is over. Simple is better."

Lindsay chuckled. "We'd better hope no one thinks we're all crazy when they overhear that."

"Sorry to break it to you, Linds, but people already think you CSI are crazy," Rita told her.

Danny moved over to another photo. "They have a refrigerator in theirs?"

"A small one. And beer. But… Mac said no."

The five looked at Mac in stern silence.

"No beer," he said.

They didn't look way or speak.

"We are on police property.

They didn't look away. Mac glanced at Stella.

She looked away, muttering, "Told you that wouldn't go over well."

Mac looked at the five. "If you get caught with beer on the property you'll be fired."

"If we get caught, then we aren't very good at keeping our secret club a secret, are we?" Rita pointed out. "And as for you CSI, you should be fired if you can't cover your own tracks!"

"Oh really?" Danny asked her as he turned to her.

"Oh really."

"You get all full of piss and vinegar when you get away from that desk."

"Hey, I clock out, I can behave however I want, buddy. Don't you forget it."

Adam laughed.

Danny shot him a glare. "Don't encourage her."

Adam stopped laughing. "I was just… She just… Reminded me…"

"Reminded you of what?" Rita pressed.

"Of Gina."

"Who's Gina?"

"The receptionist at the Las Vegas Police Department."

Lindsay slowly turned to him, staring at him.

"Your cousin works for the Las Vegas Police Department?"

"Yeah. He's a CSI."

"Your cousin is a CSI?"

"Yeah."

"Since when?" Danny asked. "I thought he was a lab tech."

"That was like a year ago. He's a CSI now."

"Any good?"

"Well… He hasn't been fired. I guess that's a good sign."

Danny shrugged his face, turning back to the pictures. "And they gotta room just like this at their place, huh?"

"Yes. But only a few people know about it. He's one of them."

Danny nodded without comment. He walked to the other side, to look at the photographs.

"We have to paint the walls. That light bulb is the only light. It feels like a dungeon in here," Lindsay told them.

"All in favor of painting The Wall, raise your hand," Stella said.

They all raised their hands.

"All in favor of being the one to actually _paint_ the wall," Mac amended.

Lindsay and Adam held up their hands.

"Alright. So we'll have to hold off on the rules until the wall's painted."

Mac dug in his pocket and dropped a pile of keys next to Adam. "These keys go to the exit right outside the door. How you get stuff down here will give you something to do on your next day off."

Danny turned. "Why can't we use the elevator?"

"Would sorta defeat the whole secret part, don't'cha think?" Flack asked him.

Danny nodded, turning back to the photographs.

"What color should we paint the walls?" Adam asked.

"You two decide. That's your project," Rita said. She looked at her watch. "Okay, this was actually fun, but I have to pick up my son. Bye." And she was gone before they could even respond.

"I'm going to get hell for being late to my date, so I'll see everyone later," Flack said, following her out.

The group slowly disappeared, leaving Adam, Mac, and Lindsay.

"You two have this weekend off. Think you'll have it done before then?" Mac asked.

"We should," Lindsay said. "Do we know if that water's safe?"

"Yes. I tested it. And the moss."

"Thank you," Lindsay told him.

"See you two tomorrow."

"Mac, thanks for letting Adam keep this idea. This will be fun."

Mac nodded and left.

"So…" Adam started.

"Saturday morning, nine o'clock, Home Depot on 22nd."

"I'll be there."

Lindsay looked around the room as she left. "Lots of potential here. See you Saturday."

Adam nodded. As soon as the door closed he grinned.

#

Lindsay walked up to Mac, looking at the pieces of paper he was lying out.

"Finally got them dry?"

"Yes. They have a lot of cotton in them."

"Fine paper. That should narrow things down."

"I hope so. Did you need something?"

"Pineapple." Lindsay walked away.

Mac looked up, watching her walk away. He looked at Hawkes on the opposite side of the table. He was staring at Mac with a grin.

"You heard the woman," Mac told him.

Hawkes grinned. "As soon as I'm done here, I'll take care of that."

Mac re-focused on his work, but he was anxious now. Lindsay told him that Adam and she couldn't finish as soon as they had hoped. When they weren't finished by Wednesday he checked it out while everyone was in the field. What he found was a painted room, and a pile of building supplies. Something was being constructed around the pool, and they had converted the single bulb into two rows of lights. He decided to give them time to finish whatever they were doing, because it had significantly improved the working relationship between Lindsay and Adam. After a week, Adam didn't act so nervous around her. Two weeks and he even greeted her with the type of smile that spoke volumes of their friendship – something he still didn't give Mac even after he'd been allowed to start The Wall.

#

It was as if some internal clock went off. The Wall Crew clocked out and headed to the elevator at the same time. They noticed Adam, Lindsay, and Stella were missing from the group. Fate put them all in the same car, at the same time, effectively keeping anyone else from riding in it with them. No one spoke about their destination until the elevator doors were closed and they were walking down the hall.

"It's been two weeks. What do you think those two did to that place?" Flack asked.

"We're about to find out. Whatever it is, you'll like it."

"I will?"

"Yes."

Opening the door let them into another world they weren't expecting. The missing Crew members were waiting for them. The wall had been painted a burnt orange color with brown streaks that made it look like the paint had run. Most people would have passed on the color and technique, but in here it worked.

The light bulb had been replaced with a unique lantern that actually gave out more light. The two had uncovered a window that had been hidden by the dim light and years of dirt and filth. Surprisingly, the glass in the window was stained glass and lead outlines in the shape of the state flower: a red rose. While the window would never get full sunlight with the high-rise building across the street, Mac imagined that the original building had, and the colors must have exploded into this room in the early morning sunlight. Over the window they had uncovered decorative masonry that moss and grime had hidden.

The most astonishing change was the puddle of water. A small waterfall had been created from the water running down the wall. The sculpture that created it used glass and stone to create an amazing piece that glittered as the water caught flecks of light. The water fell into a reflective pool at the bottom that was now surrounded by a low wall topped with ceramic tiles. The back of the fountain had been lined with tiles, with the edges broken off and smoothed.

The chair and tables had all been stripped and then stained and varnished. They were sat on a mismatch of area rugs that were clean, but had had seen far better days.

Mac didn't even want to know how they'd managed to get the green velvet settee into the basement, but it sat against the wall, along with two recliners on either side. On the opposite side, away from the water, was a microwave stand with a beat-up, worse for wear microwave. Next to it was a child's desk. On top was a small, widescreen TV, and underneath the desk was a mini-refrigerator just as beat-up as the microwave. Through a crack in the ceiling hung a coaxial cable, hidden by a hanging plant with long vines. Leaning against the desk was an old wooden librarian step stool.

"Oh my God!" Danny said. "It's… It's…

"Just the best break room _ever_!" Rita said. "You two worked your asses off!"

"That coax…" Mac started. "Where does it go to?"

"The cable going into the lab," Adam told him. After a moment he quickly added, "I didn't hurt anything, I swear! I found a splitter with an open jack. We're good."

Mac didn't argue. He trusted Adam enough not to.

"Here is the chalk," Lindsay said, opening a drawer on the desk. It was full of colored chalk in various sizes. She turned to the group. "Okay. So how does this work?"

It took a few minutes for all eyes to turn to Adam, and another minute for him to realize they were all waiting for him to answer the question.

"O-oh. You… Don't know that part. Right. Uhm." Adam walked over to the desk and selected a piece of chalk. "Need chalk."

Mac resisted smiling. Adam was not used to leading anyone for anything – this was actually good for him, even if he didn't realize it.

Adam picked up the step stool and walked over to the wall. Mac noticed that the rules had been re-written in his handwriting, but he'd added Mac and Stella's names after their rules. Adam climbed up and printed:

**

* * *

8. My supervisor doesn't care why I'm carrying around a case of corndogs and condiments.**

* * *

Adam slowly climbed down, turning to them. "So… That happened a month ago."

"I was curious, just not then. So now tell me why you were carrying a case of corndogs and condiments."

"Kendall needed them for some picnic she was going to. I just kept getting stopped to do all sorts of other things."

The room was silent when he finished.

"Not a funny story. Let me try again." And like a nervous cat slinking past a dog, he climbed up and added:

**

* * *

9. The suspect's computer is not the hub of Skynet. The loud blaring coming from it is not signaling Judgment Day.s**

* * *

Adam climbed down again. "So… Danny brought me this computer and it was a real… really hard to crack the password. And when I did, it started blaring an alarm."

Danny started laughing. "I remember that! That was last year. You started crying out 'Judgment day! Judgment day' and I thought you were talking about some virus."

Adam kind of smiled. "Yeah. And then you came back the next day and told me it wasn't the Skynet hub."

"It took me that long to figure out you were yanking my chain about it. That and watching T3. I remember that now."

Adam nodded, moving away. "So that's how you do it. You write a rule and if it's gotta good story, you tell us what it is."

"Oh yeah?" Flack asked. "Then I got one." He took Adam's chalk and without the step stool added under Adam's rule:

**

* * *

10. Trees will swallow your bullets but allow the suspect to shoot without a miss.**

* * *

"So here's the story. Angel and me were at this shootout at the Central Park, right? A dozen cops, three robbery suspects. They're shooting, we're shooting. On our side, bullets are flying everywhere. Finally a sniper takes them down. We go over to secure the scene. Not a single bullet hit them. But you remember this one Mac? You found nearly all of our bullets in trees and bushes, and nearly all of their bullets in our cars or vests!"

Mac nodded, smiling. "I do remember that. And you said… You said, 'Maybe we should arrest the trees for aiding and abetting.'"

Flack grinned with a nod. "I swear they were helping those guys. Craziest thing I'd ever seen."

"Oh! I have one." Rita said, prancing up to Flack. "Only because I hear you big bad cops whine about it all the time."

Flack resisted giving her the chalk. "In that case, I forbid you to write it up there."

"Scared?" Rita taunted.

"Of you?"

"Yes."

"Not even close." Flack let the chalk go.

**

* * *

11. Morals and crowds never agree.**

* * *

"That's funny?" Flack asked.

"No kidding. How is that funny?" Lindsay asked.

Rita turned to them. "Because the cops are always whining that if the crowd had morals, they'd use all their vacation time. The big, bad, tough, cops wouldn't whine about the tear gas that doesn't go toward the crowd. So, for me, it's really funny. I get to listen to it allllll the time."

"Who let you in here anyway?" Flack demanded

"Am I annoying you yet?"

"Like a bad rash."

She grinned, giving his cheek a pinch. "Yes, but since I'm old enough to be your mom, you have to respect me regardless."

"Ha!"

The two laughed, letting on that their argument was just a game between them. Flack gave her a gentle shove away from him.

"Away with you, woman. You gave me an idea for another rule and you're cramping my style. Danny, toss me that blue chalk."

Danny picked one out and tossed it to Flack. He wrote:

**

* * *

12. Bullet proof vests do nothing for the groin.**

**13. Tear gas doesn't care that you're downwind.**

* * *

"Are those even acceptable?" Stella asked. "As rules, I mean?"

It wasn't until all eyes were on Adam (again) that he realized they were expecting him to answer that question.

"Uhm… Sure."

Mac watched the Wall Crew take seats, starting to relax into their secret room. He took a seat on a chair behind Stella, waiting for inspiration to hit him.

"Is that a yes?" Flack asked.

"Yes. Sure. If you shouldn't do it again, it makes sense. Doesn't it? Don't you all think?"

"Makes sense to me," Danny said. He held his hand out to Flack. "Okay. Let me give this a whirl."

Danny wrote:

**

* * *

14. The probability of wrapping up a case decreases proportionally to the time elapsed since last you went to the restroom.**

* * *

"Eh? Huh? Huh? What'cha all think about that one?"

"If it weren't so flippin' true it might be funnier," Lindsay commented. "Now, I have one that came from Montana, guys."

She held out her hand and Danny dropped the chalk in it. She wrote:

**

* * *

15. I will not attempt to use luminol to stop a fleeing suspect.**

* * *

"Now, was this your personal experience?" Hawkes asked. "Or experience from someone else?"

Lindsay turned, wearing a tight smile. "That, I shall never tell."

The room booed her.

"A good story. Come on. We want a good story," Stella insisted.

The boos changed to chanting, "Good story."

"Alright! Alright. I'll tell the story. Everyone gotta good seat?"

After a muttered 'yes,' she started with, "Right after I'd transferred to the investigation division, I went into this house with my partner to process a crime scene." Lindsay sat down on the stool. "The house was cleared by the patrol officers and they said that they'd checked everywhere. But they missed this giant trunk in a bedroom. So I'm in the living room, my partner, she's in the bedroom. I hear all this commotion, she screams 'suspect!' and I turn around. Here he comes, madder than hell, with a gun. My sidearm was in the holster, strapped, I couldn't get to it. All I had was a spray bottle of luminol I'd just mixed up. So I started spraying! Two things came of that – the first is we found blood he'd tried washing off all over his face, which did convict him. Two, I ended up suspended for using 'risky and potentially dangerous means to stop a fleeing suspect, without regard to my safety or his eyesight.' It wasn't pretty."

And as much as they could imagine how un-pretty it was, was the same amount they could both see Lindsay doing it, and how, in the end, it worked.

"Please tell me we won't have to do that again," Mac told her.

She motioned overhead. "Nope. Can't. It is written."

"I have one that I've been in trouble for a few times," Sid said.

She handed the chalk over, asking, "You've gotten in trouble? How old were you when that happened?"

"No don't you go getting sassy on me, Lindsay. Or your next corpse may take a long, long time to process."

She laughed, stepping out of his way.

Sid added:

**

* * *

16. I am not allowed to paint in the morgue, even if it does have 'excellent lighting' and 'willing models that will work for free.'**

* * *

To their surprise, Mac started laughing. And it intensified to tears while provoking the others to join him. Sid shrugged.

"You still do that?" Mac asked.

"Well… I hide it better these days."

"You paint?" Hawkes asked.

"I hide it better these day."

"You paint in the morgue?" Danny asked. "What exactly do you paint?"

"Well… I need faces for my paintings and I have many to choose from, usually."

"This is a very scary side of you I now wish I could erase from memory."

Sid smiled. "Who's next?"

Mac got up, taking it. "I've thought of several. Any objections if I write them all?"

"Write away. We love to see what you've gotten yourselves into."

Mac looked back at him. "Unfortunately, Danny, you're better at that than I am." Mac added:

**

* * *

17. Your supervisor doesn't care why you're carrying a roll of duct tape, a can of spray paint, and a huge roll of waxed paper, in your field kit.**

**18. I am to resist uttering pointless, unrelated trivial facts while processing a crime scene.**

**19. I may not co-conspire with a co-worker to help them get a day off by claiming there's a bomb threat on their house.**

**20. When dealing with civilians, if something said in the heat of the moment felt good, it was wrong.**

**21. Like police, CSI are everyone's friend until they're the suspect and the evidence implicates them in a crime.**

* * *

"Hey, hey, hey!" Danny said, shaking his head. "Now you gotta take down number 17. I had a very perfect and valid reason to have all that stuff in my kit."

Mac sat on the stool, watching him with a stern look. "Like?"

"Like… Well."

Mac held his expression for a few more seconds, and then smiled. "Like?"

Danny shrugged. "Okay. Okay. I was going to tape Flack's door shut and then spray something mean on the paper."

"What!?" Flack asked.

"You were bashing on my team. I had to get even."

"It's a good thing you didn't do it. I would have flattened you out!"

"Mac took it. I didn't get the chance."

"Thank you Mac."

"I didn't do it for you. After all, you are the one that told me how good it felt to tell off that annoying drug dealer, and then we ended up getting shot at."

"Me? I didn't do that. I'd never do that."

"You are not as innocent as you've deluded yourself to be," Sid told him.

"Why is everyone picking on me? What I do?"

"Setting yourself up as an easy target?" Adam suggested.

Flack turned a glare on him, which immediately made Adam lose his smile. But then Flack smiled and shook his head and it returned.

"So who was the co-conspirator?" Lindsay asked. "As if I really need to ask."

"No. You really don't. The two guilty ones are present."

"There was a bomb threat on his house," Danny told him. "I swear there was."

"Monkeys don't fly very well," Stella told him. "And you lie even worse, Danny."

"So who utters useless information at crime scenes?" Rita asked him.

Mac leaned to the side, looking right at Hawkes. "I won't ever play Trivia Pursuit with him, either. When he gets to concentrating, things just spout out."

"Useless, pointless, things," Lindsay added. "Things that only an encyclopedia should know."

"I am not that bad."

"You're that bad," the CSI and Sid told him.

"I'm really that bad?"

"Yes," was the unison reply.

"And even worse when you're riding back in the car with me and writing notes," Flack added.

"I am not that bad. No way."

"Yes way."

Hawkes walked up to him. "Ooo. For that, you're going to pay Don. I need a piece of chalk."

"What are you writing?"

Mac moved out of the way, handing over the chalk. Hawkes added:

**

* * *

22. If the police had no resistance when clearing a room or residence, you can bet your evidence will prove they kicked down the wrong door.**

* * *

"I have never done that. Not once."

"Never?" Danny asked.

"Never."

"Ever?" Stella asked.

"Ever. I have never done that."

"Never, ever?' Lindsay asked.

Flack looked at them. "No. Not… Really. Ever."

"How did the conversation go," Mac started. "I recall now. 'Mac, I swear that was the address I was given.' And so I look at the address you were given. And then I give it back to you, and turn it around, all of a sudden your all capital 131 PERNELI, became 113 NERPELL, and definitely the wrong door. I always know when I get notes from Flack; he never writes the 3 as a 3, it always comes out E."

"I don't think I like you much, Mac. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure I don't like you much, Mac."

They laughed.

"I have a rule. Well, more like an axiom, but, well, we can bend them a little, right?" Adam asked.

"This is your game, we're just here to play," Lindsay told him. "And so far, I'm rather fond of your game."

Adam smiled, waiting for Hawkes to move out of his way. He added:

**

* * *

23. Computers never think as quickly as their human counterparts can curse.**

* * *

"Isn't that so true?" Rita said. "And the faster I curse, the slower it works."

"I hear ya there," Stella added. "And if you need the results five minutes ago, it takes twenty."

"You know, they say that's not really the computer. That's the user," Adam told her.

Stella raised her eyebrow, wiping his smiles away. "Adam, you are getting a lump of coal for Christmas."

With all his naivety and innocence he asked, "Really?"

She laughed. "No!"

"I have another one I just thought of," Lindsay said.

Adam climbed down and handed over his chalk. She added:

**

* * *

24. The day you use that device that uses radio waves outside, and need it to work flawlessly, is the same day with the most sunspot activity.**

* * *

"You tried using the digital nose, didn't you?" Mac asked.

"Yes. The most sunspots all year. It didn't work. I should have known."

Mac chuckled at the thought of how frustrated she must have become. He kept his observations of his team well hidden, including how cute Lindsay's tantrums were. She would get all flushed, and then she'd start calling the object of her frustration 'sugar.' And if she knew she was in the presence of anyone, she's start spouting off 'sugar' like everyone else spouted off other curse words. He knew a tantrum shouldn't make his day, but her's always did. Perhaps that was why he found it so easy to calm her and get her focused again.

"Well, kids, this was fun, but I have to leave," Rita said, glancing at her watch. "Good night fellow Wall Crew. See everyone tomorrow!"

They wished her a good night.

"Anyone want pizza?" Sid asked. "My treat."

"You think I'd pass up free food?" Danny asked.

The group headed for the door, not noticing Adam was staying behind. He picked up the step stool and sat it next to the desk, and then picked up the chalk left round the room and put it back in the desk. Adam walked over to the pool, staring into the water.

"Lindsay didn't make that, did she?"

Adam turned, finding Mac leaning against the door jam. He was staring at the pool. Adam smiled in his nervous way.

"No. She helped with everything else though. She's very crafty. In a good way, not a, you know, bad way. Or anything."

Mac smiled, nodding. "So are you."

The compliment only elicited a nervous smile.

"You aren't joining us for pizza?"

"Oh. I… I didn't think…"

"You were invited?"

Adam nodded a little.

Mac stood up. "You were. I'll wait out front for ten minutes, then I'm leaving." Mac turned and walked out of the room.

Adam hesitated. He suddenly jogged to the door, flicked off the light and locked the door. He hurried down the hall, noticing Mac holding the elevator door and waiting. He and Mac stepped on and Mac tapped the first floor button.

"What do you like on your pizza, Adam?"

"Everything. Well, almost everything. I don't like anchovies. Or black olives. I like everything else. Chicken and barbeque sauce is my favorite."

"On a pizza?"

"An Arizona thing."

Mac nodded. "Maybe we'll have to see if they make that at Little Toni's. They have everything else."

The doors opened and the two walked off, heading for the front doors. Mac glanced at the lab tech walking beside him. There were things he considered telling him, praise he thought about giving, but he decided it could wait. It was enough that The Wall had helped Adam accept an invitation from him – something he couldn't imagine Adam ever would have done before today.

At the same time Adam was thinking of telling Mac about something Greg told him about The Wall, something Adam believed would happen with their own Wall. Greg said that The Wall could generate white magic that would form a tight bond among the members of the Wall Crew, and in their darkest hours, just visiting it would spread a soothing balm over their soul to help them move on. But he decided that could wait for another day.


	3. Pizza With A Side Of Tall Tales

3) Pizza With A Side Of Tall Tales

Having a bad day didn't even touch what Mac's day had been.

Before he even got to work, he spilled his first cup of coffee on his pants when the driver in the car in front of him slammed on the brakes.

He took a case that was in a house with a woman that had been dead for a week with her fourteen zillion cats. What the cats hadn't eaten fell apart, oozing the remaining liquefied organs and bile all over the room, and expelling a horrific smell. The smell permeated clothes and hair and skin and couldn't easily be washed off. He took six afterwards, so he was relative certain of that fact.

To make that crime scene worse, she had been a pack rat in life and every time they moved out papers, they found rats and cockroaches everywhere. The rats ran - the live ones anyway. The cockroaches got in his jacket, his shirt, his pants, his shoes, and his hair.

It was enough to make Danny run for the exit to vomit, something Mac hadn't seen him do in years. Mac's stomach held out until he had to process the bathroom and discovered the woman never flushed. His usually ironclad stomach bailed and sent him running to the sidewalk to vomit. He ordered biohazard suits for him and Danny to finish the scene.

Coming back to the lab with Danny, a cab ran a red light right into them. When the world stopped moving, Mac thought he'd lost Danny. But the man came too and when he learned what had happened, he climbed out of the vehicle and was ready to beat the cab driver to a pulp. Despite his deeper wish to join Danny, Mac calmed him down. Stella came and picked them and their evidence up.

Back at the lab, reeking of death and decay and feces and a number of other scents, Mac discovered while he had a change of clothes, he had no change of underwear. So it was either wear the smelly underwear he had, or go without. He threw away his underwear and spent the next five hours trying to hide every time he had to 'adjust himself.'

In the shower he and Danny discovered they only had lukewarm hot water - later he found out the memo to tell him the boiler was being worked on today had somehow missed his inbox. He was grateful that Danny never once complained about the water. He probably would have snarled at him.

Following five more showers, Mac finally admitted to himself the scent wasn't going away with mere soap and water, and went to face off with a suspect that was giving Stella a hard time. It went from bad to worse fast. He started making fun of how Mac smelled and Mac came close, very close, to punching the man's lights out. He did something he rarely ever did - he walked out of the interview and told Stella to ask Hawkes or Danny to do it.

All this before lunch. A lunch that he discovered had been stolen by someone. He was heading down to get a hotdog when receptionist Rita met him with a call, and he was the only one available to take it. He skipped lunch and headed out to the call.

This one wasn't in such a horrible place. Except that the elevator in the twelve-story building was broken, and he quickly discovered he needed more difficult jogs. The apartment was clean, but the murder itself had been messy. It appeared to be a murder / suicide, and there was blood all over the bedroom. The couple had fought. Things were broken.

It would have been a peaceful crime scene, except the woman's mother showed up and went into hysterics. Then she didn't believe Mac was actually going to catch any criminal because he smelled like a trash man. Mac really hated his first case more and more. The officer finally got her under control and out of the crime scene and he finished the scene. But he had to wait for the coroner. And wait. And wait. And wait.

Four hours later, the two coroners finally showed up with a rental van because a trash truck had totaled theirs. The trash truck had gotten away from the trash men, they said, and ran loose down the street, letting their van stop it. Then one of the coroner asked if Mac knew the trash men? Mac ignored the man, gathered his evidence, and left.

He finally found himself back in his office, staring at the dark night skyline outside the window next to his office. His stomach was growling. He become accustomed to the smell and didn't notice it. He was thinking of home and his bed, but he was so tired he couldn't move. He idly played with the plastic monkey on his keychain, his subconscious running his fingers along the edges, toying with it while his conscious mind was elsewhere.

"Penny for your thoughts," Lindsay's voice quietly asked.

Mac blinked, but didn't look at Lindsay. He heard the vinyl of the chair crunch when she sat down.

"Bad day?" she asked.

Mac barely nodded.

"We've had a day too."

Mac turned his head, his eyes going right to her large belly. "Maybe your day would make me feel better."

Lindsay smiled. "Doubt it. I heard about your cases. You just kept getting beat up today, didn't you?"

Mac looked at her, confused by the comment. "No. No one..." He hesitated, catching what she was saying. "Yeah. I guess I've had a pretty stressful day. It would help if I didn't stink to high heaven."

She leaned toward him, whispering, "I wasn't going to say anything. Danny smells too."

Mac offered a tired smile.

Lindsay suddenly stood. "I know exactly what will help you perk up. Come with me, sir."

Mac shook his hand, starting to argue. She snatched up his key, thrusting his monkey at him.

"Pineapple. Join us. Pizza's coming. Lots of it."

Mac stared at the little monkey. He reached out, taking it from her, then looked up at her. The Wall was a place he hadn't thought of in months. No. That wasn't entirely true. Sometimes, when he was sitting in traffic, he'd look down at the monkey and he'd think of it. But it never came to mind when he was actually at the office and could go see it. Yet, the idea of being with a lot of people right now wasn't all too appealing.

"I don't want to do a crowd right now, Linds. Maybe-"

"A crowd? It'll be just three of us. That's not really a crowd."

"Three of us?"

"Yep. You, me, and Adam makes three."

"Where's Danny?"

"You sent him to a burglary, but when he got there, it was actually a huge misunderstanding between the tenant and the landlord, nothing was missing, and charges were dropped. That took him past quitting time, and he was only seven blocks from home, so he went home. Everyone else in the group left too. Just you, Adam, and me. Oh, and baby." She patted her belly. "And Adam and I ordered four large pizzas for everyone, thinking they'd want to come. So come on. Come have pizza and make fun of my really big belly."

Mac smiled. The pizza was tempting enough to change his mind.

"Okay."

Mac got up, grabbed his coat and the plastic bag with his clothes in it, and the two walked out together.

He leaned against the wall of the elevator on the way down. Lindsay gently patted his arm.

"You'll sleep like a log tonight, won't you?"

"I'm sure I will. But you've convinced me with pizza. Wicked woman."

Lindsay laughed.

The doors opened and the two walked off and down the hall.

Entering The Wall had the same effect as spreading a soothing balm over a burn. It was like stepping out of a blizzard into the glowing warmth of a cabin, greeted by the smell of fresh pizza and on the television, Adam had tuned into a smooth jazz music channel. Mac never noticed they even had that channel on their cable - or had Adam used his skills and gadgets to get "free" channels? Mac decidedly didn't care as he eased himself into the inviting brown recliner, the one nearest to the water fountain. Sleep toyed with him, trying to convince him to let it in and play in his dreams. But his growling stomach was a lot louder, and Lindsay was setting the table with paper plates and napkins. Mac drugs himself out of the chair and sat down next to Adam. He looked over the young man's arm at the doodle he was sketching in chalk on the table.

"What is that?"

Adam smiled, shrugging a little. "It's nothing. Really."

Mac almost sighed out loud. As tired and cranky as he was, he wanted to snarl at Adam and ask him why, after all this time, after Mac had done everything he could to prove he was trustworthy, Adam still didn't trust him.

Instead, he quietly urged, "Tell me, Adam."

"It's just a cartoon character."

"For your comic strip?" Lindsay asked

"Yeah."

"You have a comic strip?" Mac asked.

"Yeah. Well, sort of. It's not published. No one's interested in it."

Mac considered encouraging Adam to keep trying, but instead he looked away, picking up a piece of pizza from the box that now lay open in front of him. He watched Lindsay ease herself into a chair and let out a long sigh.

"Two more months. Only two more months of an aching back, and you kicking me, you little bugger," Lindsay jabbed her belly. "And some really crazy cravings."

Mac got up and walked around to the fridge, grabbing a beer.

"What do you two want to drink?"

At the same time he got, "Water." "Mountain Dew."

Mac smiled, grabbing a can and bottle. He stood up and for the first time, noticed the rules. There were more than when he'd last been down here, which was months ago. Apparently he was the only one that had forgotten about this place, because the handwriting was from everyone else in the group.

Mac walked back to the table, handed them their drinks and sat down. He stared at the list while he twisted the top off his beer.

"I've missed a lot I think."

The two looked up at the rules. Lindsay smiled back at him.

"Unlike you, Mac, we don't slack."

He laughed, swallowing a drink of his beer. He sat it aside, reading the rule after the last one he recalled being written:

**

* * *

25. Severed appendages are not considered suspects; therefore, they do not need to be read their Miranda rights. (Hawke's handwriting)**

* * *

Lindsay explained, "That was Danny's doing. He was in one of his really super and annoying too much sleep moods."

Mac nodded. He knew those moods. He was amused by those mods.

"When he and Sheldon found Vince Nelson's first foot, they were gloving and Danny proceeded to read the Miranda rights too it. Sheldon said he was about to smack him for making him look crazy by association."

Mac chuckled. "You know that when that happens, Lindsay, we all blame you."

She heaved a sigh and replied with a smile, "I know."

**

* * *

26. If there's a "beware of dog" sign, wait for the ASPCA Agent. Let them run naked and screaming from the crime scene! (Danny's handwriting)**

* * *

"That's because Danny got impatient at a crime scene," Adam told Mac.

"Oh he did, did he?"

"Yeah." Adam grinned. "ASPCA was backed up, he said he was good with dogs, and then he went over the fence."

"And the naked part?"

"The dog had really strong jaws," Lindsay laughed.

"You were there too?"

"No. Adam told everyone about it."

"Danny didn't like that, but we were amused."

"So the dog tore his clothes?"

"Most of them. He was lucky he was wearing baggy pants. He would have been a soprano if he hadn't been."

Mac started laughing. This was getting better and better. "And when did he finally lose the dog?"

"When he was in a tree wearing half his pants, no shirt, and missing a shoe."

Mac laughed hard. "And where was the dog?"

"Oh, that's not the good part," Lindsay told him. "Go ahead, Adam, tell him the good part."

Grinning Adam added, "I was chasing after them until the dog got him up the tree. I started calling the dog, calling him puppy and all, and he suddenly stops barking, trots over to me, and was a total sweetheart. When Danny got down, he was his best friend."

Mac loved the story. Danny should have known better than to jump a fence, but there were days he was a little too ambitious for his health.

**

* * *

27. We do not use NYPD vehicles to compress soda cans or water bottles for recycling. (Hawke's handwriting)**

* * *

Mac looked at Lindsay. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not. Besides, it's about Adam," Lindsay answered.

Mac looked at the lab tech. "What's it about Adam?"

Adam looked away as his cheeks brightened red. Then, in a flurry, he said, "I like to recycle and I can get more in the boxes if I smash them. I figured I could smash dozens at a time if I lined them up, and then backed over them. But Sheldon caught me. And you should be mad at him, not me."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. He blackmailed me. Said he wouldn't report it if I gave him half of my profit."

Mac just smiled. Perhaps Sheldon shouldn't have done that, but it was a suitable punishment.

"You're not going to do anything about it, are you?" Adam asked.

"You shouldn't have been using his vehicle to smash cans and bottles."

"I never said I was using his vehicle."

"He blackmailed you. I made the connection."

"I don't like playing against CSI."

That made Mac laugh again.

**

* * *

28. We do not refer a victim or suspect in respiratory distress as a 'Smurf.' (Sid's handwriting)**

* * *

"Smurf? Who calls these victims Smurfs?"

Both Adam and Lindsay looked at their pizza, avoiding looking him in the eyes. Mac leaned on the table, in Lindsay's direction.

"You two?"

"All of us, actually," Lindsay admitted, finally looking at his eyes. But it didn't stop her from grinning.

Mac shook his head, sitting back. He polished off the last bite of pizza and drink of beer.

**

* * *

29. Never appeal to a man's "better nature." Invoking his self-interest gives you better results. (Flack's handwriting)**

* * *

"You know, I think Flack was an oracle in his previous life," Adam told Lindsay.

Mac noticed this interaction. The two had become good friends ever since they'd put this room together. But when he found out she was pregnant, Mac had watched them grow into best friends. He'd lost count how many times he'd seen Adam telling her something in full animation - arms and body helping illustrate it. But it came to a sudden halt the moment he, Stella, or even Danny, entered the room.

"Why do you think that?" Mac asked. The idea of previous lives was a notion that didn't exist in Mac's beliefs, but if it opened Adam up, then he'd at least hear him out.

"Because he's the one that has the most prophetic views on our job." Adam motioned up at the rule. "Case in point."

"He was probably one of those oracles in the early thirteen hundred B.C. that sat on a stool over a crack and went crazy from all the poisonous gas coming up from the magma below," Lindsay commented. "And then, he was reborn in modern day New York, and met Danny. Heaven only knows what we did wrong to get cursed with that."

Mac smiled. The idea of Flack as an oracle brought to mind a conversation he'd been subjected to at a crime scene years ago. Probably over a decade, at least. The scene had been secured and while Danny was working, he and Flack talked about the hot new movie of that week, 'The Matrix.' He remembered Flack mentioning he liked the Oracle and how she never really answered anything, leaving the future of Neo (whoever that was) and the others in question, a good method of leaving an opening for more movies. Danny's come back was that the writer probably modeled the Oracle after Flack's work, since he rarely answered questions and left openings for things less glamorous as movies. It earned Danny a light cuff up the side of the head and Mac having to remind them they were in a crime scene before their wrestling match got too far.

**

* * *

30. When the break room microwave dies, I will not use the Bunsen burners to reheat my frozen burrito or dinner. (Adam's handwriting)**

* * *

"I see you listened to me," Mac said with a lifted eyebrow.

Adam only grinned.

"You stunk the lab up for two days, Adam. Don't grin like that," Lindsay teased.

"How was I supposed to know a frozen burrito was flammable? _That_ flammable?"

"And the TV dinner? What's your excuse there?"

"I was tired and needed more caffeine?"

Lindsay and Mac both laughed.

**

* * *

31. The neighbor that saw everything also wears inch thick glasses they fail to mention they weren't wearing the night of the crime. (Flack's handwriting)**

* * *

"Prophetic, isn't he?" Lindsay asked.

Mac looked at her. "We already discussed that."

"Did we? I get more pregnant, I get more forgetful."

"How do you get more pregnant? Is that like getting more baked?"

Lindsay laughed. "It's the hormones and stuff. They make me loopy."

"I think you have a problem if you think that's true, Linds," Adam told her.

"Why?"

"You were loopy before the hormones."

She threw her napkin at him.

**

* * *

32. There is no reason to recreate a child's 'volcano' project to 'verify the evidence,' as we all know full well what happens when you mix food coloring with vinegar and add it to baking soda. (Stella's handwriting)**

* * *

"Where was I when this happened? And who is she talking about?"

In unison Adam and Lindsay answered, "Kendell."

"Kendell did that?"

"Yep. She said she'd never done this experiment in grade school or college. Stella didn't buy it."

"And do we know if she never did?"

"Nope." Lindsay shook her head. She picked up a piece of pizza and started peeling pepperoni off and eating it.

**

* * *

33. Natural laws trump human laws. (Stella's handwriting)**

* * *

"I think Stella might be onto something here," Mac commented.

"Like why the pigeons wait to poop until you're collecting evidence?" Lindsay asked

That made Mac laugh. While she hadn't been in the field in months, she had a very, very good point. It did seem pigeons held their poop until they were collecting evidence outdoors.

**

* * *

34. Fleeing suspects always find the riskiest exit with no thought to your safety. (Flack's handwriting)**

* * *

"I think we should start calling him Oracle Flack, instead of Detective Flack," Adam said.

"No, Adam, we don't want him confused. Changing his name would only confuse him."

Mac looked at her. "I take it you've been spending a lot of time with Don?"

"Sadly, in for the penny, in for the pound." She patted her belly. "He already has a godfather. And I fear for his sanity."

Mac laughed.

**

* * *

35. The one uniformed officer that understands crime scenes and evidence will be the last one on the scene, or newly transferred and cannot take command of the scene. (Lindsay's handwriting)**

* * *

"And you wrote this when you haven't actually been in the field for months, why?"

"Because it's true. True, true, true. We never get the one officer that really knows what he's doing until after the fact, or he's unable to command. It's very sad, actually."

**

* * *

36. If your largest piece of evidence it the ugliest piece of artwork in a gallery, you can be guaranteed of three things: it is heavy, it is worth thousands to millions of dollars, the judge will issue an order that it can only be touched by someone who is impossible to reach or schedule. (Danny's handwriting)**

* * *

"It's a mystery to me what some people call art," Mac commented.

Adam added, "It's a mystery to me why they have to make it so damned heavy."

**

* * *

37. Procrastination shortens the job and places the responsibility for its termination on someone else (i.e. the authority who imposed the deadline). (Adam's handwriting)**

* * *

"Really, Adam?" Mac asked.

"Really." Adam grinned, but didn't look at Mac.

**

* * *

38. Anything worth doing is worth doing for money. (Danny's handwriting)**

**39. When counting children in a large group, rest assured one will move, therefore forcing a re-count. Again. (Stella's handwriting)**

**40. When you think you've seen the stupidest criminal in the world, another will come along to surprise you. (Flack's handwriting)**

**41. Most cases have a single suspect, some cases have a few suspects, but occasionally there are those rare gems that include an entire apartment complex or city block. (Flack's handwriting)**

* * *

"And he's back to being prophetic again. I'm not so sure he's really a detective, Mac," Lindsay told him.

"He's a prophetic detective. He insights wisdom upon the less fortunate criminals."

Adam looked at Mac, and then looked away.

"What, Adam?"

"Oh. I was just thinking... If he ever becomes a psychic detective, we'd have to change his name."

"To?"

"Shawn Spencer."

"Who's Shawn Spencer?"

"We are going to have to do something about your unrefined pop culture knowledge. It's despicable," Lindsay playfully scolded Mac.

Mac laughed. He got up and dropped his empty beer bottle and plate in a trashcan, grabbed a pillow and blanket from the settee, and nestled down in the recliner.

"So you're going to tell me who the Pie Maker is?" Mac asked following it with long yawn.

**

* * *

42. We do not tell people that we solved a seemingly unsolvable crime due to an informant nicknamed 'The Pie Maker.' (Danny's handwriting)**

* * *

"The Pie Maker brought dead people back to life, so he could ask who killed them. It worked about 80 percent of the time."

Mac softly chuckled. "And the other twenty percent?"

"They were surprised and never saw their killer."

"Like the deep fried guy. He was surprised," Adam said.

"I don't even know want to know." Mac yawned again.

**

* * *

43. The worst thing you can hear a police officer ask is, "Is this evidence?" (Sheldon's handwriting)**

* * *

Lindsay chuckled. "I think Sheldon's realizing what we had to go through before he came on."

Adam looked strangely at her.

"What?"

"Just now?" Adam asked.

"Well... Maybe not just now, but since we started writing on the walls, maybe."

Adam laughed.

**

* * *

44. If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, the one that will cause the most damage to the evidence will be the first to go wrong. (Stella's handwriting)**

* * *

"That is so true." Lindsay nodded. "And it's never just one thing, it seems. It's all or nothing."

"That's what you CSI get for tempting fate," Adam told her.

"What does that mean?"

"Well, when fate wants to issue some karma smack down on someone, and you guys go and interfere, she gets grouchy."

"Grouchy, huh? Mac, I think Adam's spending too much time in the lab."

**

* * *

45. I will not 'accidentally' shoot pigeons while clearing a crime scene. Even if they are 'poop bombing, flying rats, that breed like rabbits.' (Flack's handwriting)**

* * *

"And just when we all thought Flack was a smart and intelligent oracle. You're going to give him grief about that, right Mac?" Adam turned around to ask Mac the question again and stopped. "I think he's out, Linds."

Lindsay turned around. Mac was sound asleep in the recliner. She stood and started picking up the table.

"Do you want to take the rest home?" she asked, holding up the closed pizza box.

"We can split it. But let's leave a few pieces in the fridge. He can have it for breakfast in the morning." Adam motioned at Mac.

"I don't think he's a pizza for breakfast type."

"Well, we can leave it and he can decide. I'll leave a note." Adam turned to the desk and retrieved paper and a pen, and jotted a note.

Lindsay found plastic wrap in the deep drawer of the desk and wrapped four slices, putting them in the fridge. The two split the pizza, and then headed out. Adam stopped at the door, looking back at Mac. He smiled a little, flicked off the light, and closed the door behind him.


	4. White Magic and Angels

4) White Magic and Angels

Jessica was suddenly attacked. Arms embraced her as a body forced her through an open door into the janitor closet. The door shut softly behind her and a bare bulb was turned on. She turned, glaring at Flack, which was hard to do with the goofy love-struck smile on his face.

"You clocked out. I saw you," he said, moving in to kiss her neck.

She laughed, pulling away. "Not at work, Don."

He didn't let go. He used his body to press her against the shelves as his hands ran down her sides to her hips.

"You don't have any plans tonight. You told me you didn't."

"Well, I do have plans." She smiled as she loosened his tie. "But they don't include a janitor closet. They include something much more comfortable and private."

"Private? This isn't private?"

She moved to step away from him, but he cornered her again. She was serious about not wanting to do anything at work. She looked into his eyes, starting to tell him that in 'that tone' that always made him back off.

He cut her off when he produced a bandana. "I gotta a surprise, but you have to be blindfolded first."

"Don," she started, shaking her head. "Really. Not at work."

He smiled, leaning close, his lips brushing tantalizing close to her lips. "Not that kind of a surprise. That's for later, somewhere between dinner and sleep."

She laughed. "Then why the blindfold?"

"Because, Angel, I have been informed today that you are to be included."

She waited, expecting more. Instead, he started folding the bandana into a blindfold. She pushed it back when he lifted it up to blindfold her.

"Included in what?"

"That's the surprise."

"Don."

He grinned. "You don't trust me?"

She trusted him. She didn't trust his surprise.

"Who's all included in this surprise of yours?"

"Not my surprise. It's an '_our'_ surprise. Now stop fighting me and let me put this bandana on. Don't make me break out the handcuffs, woman."

"That's not much of a threat. You know I can get out of them a hell of a lot faster than you can."

He laughed, and then kissed her cheek. She closed her eyes, absorbing the softness of his lips, the light scent of his cologne, and the feeling how his hair brushed her brow. It made her melt inside and she didn't fight him when he tied the bandana around her eyes.

"Okay," he said, moving back. "You can't see anything, can you?"

"I'm going to wipe the floor with your ass if you make me regret this."

He laughed, kissing her cheek again, doing that thing he did to her again. She felt his hand on her neck and then it slid slowly down her shoulder, arm, and his fingers wrapped around hers. His hands were large and easily enclosed her hand.

"Here we go."

She heard the door open and then Flack's other hand was on the small of her back. For a moment she was lost in memories. He often guided her into briefings and interviews with that light hand on the small of her back. The two times they couldn't talk their way out of police functions, his hand stayed there while he stood at her side. It made her feel safe and that he would always protect her.

He guided her into the hall and stopped her. The hand left briefly and she heard the door click shut behind her. Then it returned and he was guiding her down the hall – one hand on her back, the other holding her hand.

"What's going on?" someone asked.

"A little surprise."

"Oh yeah? Cake?"

Detective Rosin was always looking for free food. She smiled.

"Go home, Dave," Flack ordered.

She heard Rosin leave as he muttered something. They stopped and he let go of her hand for a second.

"You okay?" Flack asked.

"Any reason I shouldn't be?"

"You're really quiet."

She smiled. "I'm dying to see if there is cake."

He laughed with her and then a tender kiss was placed on her temple, right above the bandana.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear.

She smiled. "Yeah? I suppose I'll forgive you then."

"Better. You'll like this."

"Who decided I should be included?"

"It was a group vote."

"A group? What kind of group is this, Flack? I am not taking my clothes off."

He laughed again, quietly telling her, "That's coming later, too. Trust me, no clothing removal will be expected with this surprise."

She heard the elevator approaching. There was a soft ding and the doors slid noisily open. Flack guided her onto the car and let go to push a button. She started to turn but he stopped her.

"The first floor is the other way," she argued

He leaned close, whispering against her ear. "I never said we were going to the first floor."

She smiled. "We're going to—" She'd almost said 'roof' until she felt the car start to descend. "There's only two floors below us. Where are we going?"

"There's more than two floors."

"No there's… Okay, four, if you count the two basement levels."

"I'm counting them. I'm not giving it away. I'd get my balls busted for ruining the surprise. This group is really, really particular about who gets to join."

"Who joins what?"

The elevator stopped and the door opened.

"Hey… Flack," she heard Chief Sinclair ask.

"Hey."

"What's, uh…"

"Trust exercise, sir," Flack lied.

Jessica almost started laughing. She bit on her tongue to stop herself.

"A _trust_ exercise, Detective?"

"Yes, sir. I have to lead her to a cold case without letting her run into anything. She has to trust me."

"And I'll shoot him if he lets me run into anything," Jessica piped up.

Sinclair laughed. He probably didn't believe it, but it was a good enough joke that he was going to overlook it.

"You kids have fun. Don't do something I'll regret hearing about tomorrow."

The elevator stopped and Sinclair left. The doors closed and the car started to descend again.

"Trust exercise?"

"Better than tell him something worse."

"Like?"

"I'm leading my girlfriend to a dark corner in the cold cases for a horizontal jog."

"You are not!" She hesitated. "Are you?"

"No! I told you that's not the surprise. That's for later. Trust. Work on it."

She laughed. The car stopped and his hand pressed gently on her back. She let him lead her out and turn right. Away from the cold cases and records. She'd never gone this way before.

The cement floor was a little uneven and sloped slightly downward. She began to hear the soft din of voices. The voices grew louder, but were still muffled when he stopped her. She didn't hear a door open, but she knew one had when the voices suddenly grew louder.

"You're here!" Lindsay said.

"We thought we were going to have to send the squad looking for you two," Danny joked. "Hey, Angel."

"Hey," she said, smiling. She reached for her blindfold but Flack pushed her hand down.

"Not just yet."

"You didn't have to blindfold her, Don," Mac's voice scolded – but she heard the humor in his voice. It was rare to hear that.

"I've got you," Stella said, taking Jessica's other hand and pulling her away from Flack. "Door, Flack. Shut the door."

"Oh. Right."

She didn't hear the door close over the voices around her. She knew all of the voices – Danny, Lindsay, Hawkes, Mac, Stella, Flack, Sid, and Adam, and the soft baby talk of Lucy. And she heard something else that was rare to hear even among this collection of people. All day she worked with them, every so often she'd gone to the bar with them, but they never really relaxed. Everyone here was relaxed. Mac was happy, she heard it in the way he was kidding Adam about something. Adam was comfortable with the teasing here, Stella and Lindsey were talking shopping, and Flack was teasing change the green poop runny diapers.

"All right," Stella said, "take it off, Jessica."

She pulled the bandana off and she was glad they didn't stop talking. Perhaps they were aware that she couldn't possibly take in her surroundings at once. The room she was in was strange to her. She knew she was still in the precinct only because Flack had led her down here. But this room was more like a living room. No. Not quite. That fountain in the corner was definitely out of place. So were the odds and ends of furniture, an old child's desk, a television, and beat up microwave and mini-refrigerator. She had been sat in one of the mismatched chairs around a long dining room table.

Jessica stood, moving to the wall, staring at the writings by the door. It was a list of rules, it was… She turned, grabbing Flack's arm. He smiled at her.

"This is that place you and Danny always talk about and always stop talking about when I come in the room. That place you write rules down for things you can't do anymore. Isn't it?"

He grinned.

"Told you guys it wasn't a secret from her. She was eavesdropping."

"I was not! I was… Being a good detective."

"You were eavesdropping," Adam corrected.

"I was just…" She wagged her head. "Fine. Whatever. And you're okay with all this?" she asked, looking right at Mac.

"I've written some of those rules," Mac informed her.

She smiled, looking back up at the wall. She spotted Mac's handwriting scrawled between everyone else's handwriting.

"You call yourselves The, uhm… The…"

"The Wall Crew," Came the unison response.

"You've been inducted. Mozeltov!" Adam said, and then lifted his half finished beer.

When the rest of The Wall Crew lifted their beers, Jessica smiled from the pleasant surprise.

"Where's my beer?" she asked.

Lindsey grinned, adding, "Fridge. It's self-serve here. We all pitch in to keep the fridge stocked down here, so be prepared to—"

Another unison response, "Feed the masses!"

A wave of laughter erupted. Jessica got up and got her own beer, then sat down next to Lindsey so she could see Lucy.

"So is this where mommy and daddy hide you all day? Hide you in The Wall?" Jessica asked her.

The baby smiled back and let out a squeal of glee. Jessica slid a finger in her finer, which immediately was pulled to Lucy's mouth.

"Do you want to hold her?" Lindsey offered.

"Sure," Jessica answered, setting her beer on the table.

Lindsay handed her off.

"Rule time!" Stella announced, fishing out piece of chalk out of a desk drawer. "Jessica, you want to do the honors?"

"I have no idea how this works, and I have a baby who's just all too happy. Someone else can go first."

Stella nodded, grabbing the footstool. "It's very simple, Jessica. Out on the job we see things, or _do_ things—" Stella looked right at Danny, then Flack, when she added that. "That probably shouldn't be done. You get up here under the last rule written, and you phrase it in the best, and preferably most comical, way possible. Now," Stella turned at the top of the footstool, looking down at Jessica. "The only rule about the rules is that once a rule is written, it might be bent a little, but you can never, ever, ever break it by doing the thing that caused it to be written. Got all that?"

"Got it. I take it Don and Danny are the worst."

"They're going to put me and Stella in our graves before our time," Mac jabbed. "It's like have two teenagers."

"We are not _that_ bad. Adam's worse," Danny said.

"Hey!"

Everyone laughed.

"And on that note," Stella said. "Just for my favorite three boys that love to make my job more interesting than _I_ like…" She turned and wrote:

**

* * *

46. When my supervisor tells me something I don't want to hear, I should never tell him or her, "You should hear what the voices are saying about you," or "I may look safe, but as soon as I get you alone, I'll eat you."**

* * *

When she turned around, Lindsay, Flack, and Danny all pointed at Adam.

"What?" Adam asked.

"You," Stella pointed right at Danny. "Have told me about the voices in your head. And you." She pointed at Flack. "Threatened me that you weren't safe despite the boyish charm. And as for Adam, I just ignore his crazy talk. It's easier that way."

"Thanks. I think." Adam said.

"But that's not the best one I have." Stella added:

**

* * *

47. The best way to publicize a governmental or political action is to attempt to hide it.**

* * *

"And you were doing so well until that," Mac told her.

She smiled as she climbed back down the ladder. "It's true."

"Do you think Sinclair would agree with you?" Jessica asked.

"What he doesn't know, only helps us."

The room laughed.

"Okay. I have more of a post-preg woman observation." Lindsay got up from her chair, taking Stella's chalk. She added:

**

* * *

48. The leak in the lab ceiling is never in the same location as the drip. **

* * *

"It's scary how true that is." Jessica said. She smiled at Lucy when she cooed softly and offered the girl a finger to gum.

Sid and Mac were the only two that noticed the doe-eyed look come over Flack as he watched her with the baby. The men smiled but said nothing.

"Chalk, honey," Danny said.

Lindsay tossed it to him and he wrote:

**

* * *

49. If there is an old, loud, Italian woman in the apartment building, she inevitably saw everything and failed to mention she wasn't wearing her quarter-inch thick glasses when she saw it. **

* * *

As if responding to their Super Bowl team failing to make a winning touch down, the room erupted in an, "OHHHH!"

"Yeh. Yeh? True, isn't it?"

"That's even worse than Lindsay's. It never fails. Never!" Flack told the room.

"Or worse," Mac added. "The loud, blind, Grecian man with a cane that said he reached the window in time to seem the crime. From across the room. When his highest shuffle speed is about a foot an hour."

They laughed.

"Chalk, man," Hawkes said.

Danny tossed it to him and he added:

**

* * *

50. I will no longer 'test the mechanical bull' to verify it was or was not implicated in a murder. (_Inspired by __BobbyandLindsay4ever_)**

* * *

"Who did that?" Stella asked.

Hawkes just held out the chalk. "Whose next?"

"Who did that, Sheldon?" Mac asked.

He shrugged. Danny started laughing.

"You promised!" Hawkes cried as he begun laughing.

"Hey. It's the wall. You can't get in trouble here," Danny said.

"Much," Mac added. "He can't get in _much_ trouble here. Still haven't had any volunteers for this weeks autoclave shift."

"Mac!" Stella laughed. "You wouldn't do that to them. Would you?"

He just shrugged with an ornery grin.

"Oh, then I do have one that needs added," Lindsay said. Taking the chalk from Hawkes she added:

**

* * *

51. I must never admit to locking my supervisor's keys in the trunk with the evidence. (_Submitted by CSIfreak24 and a friend_)**

* * *

"Danny is so busted," Flack laughed.

"I _should_ have given him autoclave duty for that!" Stella spat, but with a large smile.

"I found us free help. I shouldn't be in trouble."

"You found us two kids that could pop a lock in two seconds and then shot at us."

"I you hadn't tried interrogate them about it, they wouldn't have shot at us."

"There wasn't an officer around?" Mac asked.

"I was bringing evidence back," Stella answered, "and giving Clutzy here a ride home and he wanted a pop and to pick up some groceries. I waited in the car with the evidence, but he couldn't get the back open. So I get out, didn't notice he hit the door lock button, we put the groceries in the trunk and shut it. He says, 'Oh shit,' and tells me he let go of the keys with the bag and dropped them in the trunk. With the evidence."

"I still need volunteers for autoclave shift. Who's volunteering?" Mac asked.

"I hear it's great for the pores, Stella," Jessica said.

"Don't encourage him, Jessica!"

"Just saying."

Stella took the chalk and added the next rule:

**

* * *

52. I am not the Incredible Hulk. I do not morph into a green, Neanderthal-looking giant with muscles the size of dump trucks. And I may not intimidate the press by suggesting I can. (_Submitted by CSIfreak24_)**

* * *

Everyone looked right at Adam.

"What!?"

"Did you really think none of us would see that interview?" Jessica asked.

Adam sheepishly grinned. "You, uhm… You all saw that… Huh? My fifteen minutes of fame?"

"Sinclair really wanted you to spend fifteen minutes signing a pink slip after that," Mac told him.

"You'd… Fire me for that?"

"I need volunteers for the autoclave shift. Interested, Adam?"

Adam leapt up, grabbed the chalk, and changed the subject by adding:

**

* * *

53. I will not complain when the suspect I bet on for the whodunit pool has a truthful alibi and thus, is cleared. (_Submitted by VessaMorana_)**

* * *

"Who did that?" Lindsay asked.

All but Mac and Sid looked at each other. The CSI and coroner exchanged looks of puzzlement. Adam smiled at them.

Stella noticed Adam's attention and gasped, "Mac Taylor! You did not!"

"What?"

"You did, didn't you?"

"Didn't what?"

"You had a whodunit pool?"

"No."

"Him and Sid did, "Adam told them. "I caught them talking about a case and betting on who did it. Money was even exchanged over it."

"We were off duty," Sid said with a fake snooty look.

"It was nine in the morning on a Tuesday."

"We were on our break," Mac told him.

"You never take breaks," Lindsey pointed out.

"Mac, Sid… Just give it up. You were doing something you tell us not to do and the next time you do, you better be extending that betting pool to our end." Flack shook his head. "I cannot believe you'd oust me and Danny from that."

"We were attempting to keep it quiet," Sid explained. "We weren't aware anyone was around when I started it."

"Sid started it?" Jessica laughed. "Oh, this just keeps getting better, and better, and better."

"Maybe two volunteers for autoclave shift?" Mac asked looking across the table at her.

"I'm not one of your minions. You can't pick me. Sorry."

"But it's good for the pores, Jessica," Sid retorted.

She made a face, which made Lucy laugh and grab for her nose. "You just ignore the boys and their silly threats, Lucy. They know we rule the roost.

The men booed her.

"I have another one," Hawkes said, holding his hand out.

Adam tossed it over. Hawkes added:

**

* * *

54. The first to volunteer is the last to leave the shift. (_Inspired by Augusta_)**

* * *

"Oh yeah. That's the worst thing you can do," Adam agreed.

"And Mac wonders why none of us are anxious to volunteer for his infamous autoclave shift," Danny laughed.

"I have one for my beloved Don," Jessica said and gently placed Lucy in Lindsay's arms.

"I'm in trouble," he muttered with a chuckle.

Jessica gave him a smirk as she took the chalk from Hawkes and added her rule:

**

* * *

55. There is a fine line between bravery and stupidity. (_Submitted by Augusta_)**

* * *

They all jabbed Flack.

"The Oracle has fallen! The world is doomed!" Danny cried.

"Shut up," Flack laughed. "I disown you as my best friend. And you," he grabbed Jessica's wrist, pulling her close as he slipped an arm around her waist. "You'll regret that."

"Ohh?" she laughed, turning so he could hold her on his lap.

"Oh. And I have to write this. For me and all the other techie techs," Adam said.

He grabbed a yellow piece of chalk and wrote:

**

* * *

56. Do not run to the tech guru in a panic because your laptop will not turn on before you have (A) checked if it's plugged in, and (B) had in standby while unplugged during your month long sabbatical. (_Inspired by Augusta_)**

* * *

"I've never done that," Lindsay, Sid, and Stella protested.

Adam slowly turned. "Ahh… Actually… It was Mac I was referring to."

Sid laughed and leaned across the table. "Mac, this probably isn't the best lead by example you could do."

"Don't you know the golden rule of supervisors?" He stood, holding his hand out to Jessica as he walked past.

"Do tell, oh great one," Jessica asked for the group. She tossed him the chalk.

Mac climbed up the stepstool telling them, "Supervisors are the lords, you all are the peasants, any questions, and you get a month of autoclave shifts."

They laughed and booed his rule, making Mac laugh.

He added to the list:

**

* * *

57. Just because your best bud co-worker dared you to do something, doesn't mean you should do it. (_Inspired by Augusta_)**

* * *

"Danny, I told you it would catch up with you," Lindsay teased.

"What?"

"Flack and you daring each other things at crime scenes."

"We don't do that."

"I _really_ need volunteers for the autoclave shift," Mac told them.

"We didn't do anything! We're innocent."

"That's what they _all_ say," Stella laughed.

Jessica reached up, patting Flack's cheek. "If they were only as innocent at they pretend to be…"

"Which reminds me, Jessica." Mac added:

**

* * *

58. We do not report to supervisors or press that a deceased victim is a 'fine,' 'cherry,' 'prime,' or 'in outstanding condition.'**

* * *

"But whyyyyy?" Lindsay asked. "Haven't you ever watched zombie movies? They could be in excellent condition, if they could just walk."

"I don't think so." He added:

**

* * *

59. Never wear black to a crime scene in the sticks at night. **

**60. Public restrooms are not public forums for 'Karaoke On The Job' night.**

* * *

They were all laughing as he walked down the stepladder.

"Oh, I got one from last week!" Danny said, hopping to his feet. He snatched the chalk from Mac's fingers and printed:

**

* * *

61. I will not tell a suspect that's protesting the NRA, "Guns don't kill people. Dad's with pretty daughters do."**

* * *

"OHHH!" went around the room again.

"So is this a precursor to Lucy's dating years?" Hawkes add.

Danny 'puffed' his chest out. "Every guy she dates will have a full background check. He better be cleaner than a nun before he dates my little girl! Or out he goes!" He hiked his thumb over his shoulder to accent his point.

"Danny, get down. You're scaring the Wall Crew and Adam," Lindsay told him.

"HEY!" Adam protested, but ended up laughing with everyone else.

"I thought of some," Jessica said.

Danny tossed her the chalk and returned to steal his daughter away for a father-daughter conversation about boys.

Jessica wrote:

**

* * *

62. Professional criminals are predictable, but the world is full of amateurs.**

**63. Not wearing a bulletproof vest attracts more bullets and knives.**

**64. Not all roads lead to somewhere. **

* * *

She paused, looking at Flack. "And for those of us that just can't leave the hatchets buried…"

**

* * *

65. ****When asked why you arrested an ex-boyfriend/girlfriend for a law that no one has heard of, the best argument is decidedly not "Because it's still on the books."**

* * *

"Hey! It was a perfectly good law."

"What law?" Mac asked.

"The one about that says you must have a permit from the merchant services if you want to transport crates of tea across any of the bridges."

"What?" was the resounding question.

"There's a law on the books that says in order to transport crates of tea off any island across bridges connected to New Amst—New York, you must have a permit. Failure to produce said permit to any constable or auditor is punishable by a fifteen-dollar fine. She was transporting crates of tea across the Brooklyn without the permit, I fined her."

"She was his old girlfriend from college that dumped him in the commons with a megaphone," Jessica explained.

"She should never have moved out of Queens."

A new wave of laughter was starting.

"That's your defense? She moved out of Queens?"

"And I'm sticking to it!"

"You fined the poor girl on a law that is two hundred and thirty years old, Don! I'm surprise you just got desk duty and a two day suspension for it."

"That's because it was on the books and there wasn't a damned thing the captain could do about it. If it's on the books, it's still good, I can still issue a ticket."

"Dude," Adam said, "You're like a detective. You don't issue tickets."

"I can still issue tickets. I just chose when and who."

"You issued a ticket for a law meant to tax tea from Britain," Sheldon told him. "I'm not so sure you have a full grasp of your serve and protect duties, man."

In the good spirit of the joke, Flack put his nose up and told them, "It is in on the books, I did my duties, so there!" And then stuck out his tongue at everyone.

"You are a child! I'm dating a child!" Jessica told him. "Quick. Lindsey. Time out chair or grounding?"

"Oh… Jessica… I think this one you're going to just have to hand over to child services. He's just too far-gone for any redemption. Give him up. Throw him back. Call him toast."

There was a pause.

Flack shrugged and held his hand out to her, "Hi there sexy. My name's Toast Throw Up. Wanna throw some tea off a boat and get crazy tonight?"

And the room erupted in laughter.

"I have one," Adam said as he stood. "Too bad the tech that did it isn't here, though." He wrote:

**

* * *

66. We do not make pipe bombs on the premise, "But how else will I learn about them?"**

* * *

Stella started laughing so hard she began snorting.

Which made everyone else laugh, and have to wait for her to get a hold of herself.

"Come on, Stella. Stop. We want to hear this," Lindsay urged.

"Stacey Kechem. Do you all know Stacey Kechum?" she said, barely able to speak.

They all did.

"She… She started nights, but they moved her to days so she could be more supervised." Stella slowly got a hold of herself. "We had a case with a pipe bomb and the girl was all questions about it. Never seen one in her life. I told her she should look up the information because I was busy." Stella slouched in her chair, starting to laugh again. "Worst, worst, WORST mistake in my life!" Stella sat forward, leaning on the table. "I come back from lunch through our door down here, didn't notice the flashing lights, took the elevator upstairs, that were strangely still working, and stepped out into chaos! People were running everywhere. That was the day you were gone all day on that case uptown." She pointed at Mac. "That twelve car accident. The one you finally ruled as accidental."

Mac nodded.

"I finally get someone to tell me that there's a pipe bomb and everyone has to get out. Bomb squad is coming. All this. I go in, like an idiot, to see what they're talking about, and see this pipe bomb just sitting on a table. Now… Come on. It doesn't take a genius to realize no bomber would just _leave_ a bomb sitting out where everyone could see it. I head back downstairs and find two officers have Lacey in cuffs, she's bawling, they're angry, the bomb squad shows up, if he could have been Sinclair would have been beet red he was yelling so much. I finally get everyone to shut up and ask her what happened. She says she was researching it and decided to put one together, but I figured out that she never put in any explosives, just the mechanics of one, and she used clay, not plastique, and the wire was actually a pipe cleaner." Stella erupted into more laughter.

"That's what that was about? That's why Sinclair was so mad?" Mac asked her.

"Oh, no. It was _because_ it wasn't even a _real_ bomb he was so mad. And I don't even know who called it in. No one confessed—"

"Would you have 'fessed up if you'd called in a fake bomb?" Danny asked.

"No. I wouldn't have. But the funny part… That's not even the funny part… The funny part is that Lacey honestly believed that she was going to blow up the place with a fake bomb. She thought for sure that's why everyone was mad at her. She even offered to go diffuse her fake pipe bomb."

The spiel of laughter was loud. A good, long, soul-cleaning laughter…

#

"What are you doing, Danny?"

Danny was torn out of the past to the present, and found Mac standing in The Wall next to him, staring at him.

"What?" Danny wasn't sure if the question had been part of his memory trip or if Mac had really asked it.

"Don't you have a doctor's appointment?"

Danny looked down at his legs. He nodded. "I rescheduled it."

Mac walked in and sat down in a chair. Was he going to get after Danny for taking time off for the appointment and then not going? Danny waited, but Mac didn't say anything. He looked at him. Mac was hunched over, his elbows on his legs, slowly rubbing his hands together

"That night, after I left the tavern, I came here," Mac said.

The pause made Danny wonder if he was expecting him to say something. Mac heaved a sigh.

"I found Sheldon here. He told me he needed some white magic healing too. It's funny. I don't give much credit to things like that, but coming in here always makes things lighter, clearer." Mac looked up at him. "Maybe there's something to it."

Danny smiled. "Maybe so. Look." Danny looked down at his shoe. It took several minutes, but his right toe moved. He'd been working on it. He looked up at Mac with a smile, and his supervisor returned.

"Lindsay says its hope. Maybe it is."

"Yes." Mac nodded.

Danny wagged his head side to side. "I'm hoping it is."

The two men chuckled. Danny's cell phone rang and he answered it.

"Hey babe. Yeah. I'm on my way home. No…" Danny looked at Mac with a shameful frown. "Nothing's changed. Same story as before. I'm doing fine though."

Mac looked down.

"No. I can catch the bus. Lucy misses you. Stay there. I'll be home soon. Love you too." He hung up, staring at his phone. He felt he had to explain the lie. "She worries, ya know? I don't want her worrying, thinking the worst or something. I see the doctor next week. Just needed a little space."

"Okay."

Danny looked at him. "You don't approve."

Mac looked up. "I lied to Claire to keep her from worrying or being scared sometimes. It's what you do sometimes, even if it's not the kindest thing to do. Guess it means we're both human. Just don't make a habit of it. It could cost you."

Danny nodded. "I won't. See you tomorrow, Mac." He wheeled himself out of The Wall, closing the door behind him.

Mac didn't move, even after a heavy sigh. He recalled the times he'd lied to Claire for those reasons, and a few so her surprise wouldn't be ruined. Those memories made Mac smile – for a moment. Flack would never get those memories with Jessica.

Mac looked up at the wall. Losing people in war was one thing, but here in the city… And for what? He was still asking himself that.

Mac stood up suddenly, fished a piece of chalk from a drawer in the desk, and grabbed the footstool. He put the stool against the wall and climbed up. In careful, neat, and thick lines he added:

**

* * *

67. Not allowed to get shot. Ever**

* * *

Mac backed down the steps. He was allowing himself to believe in the white magic theory.

He believed –

Did he believe? Really?

Mac realized he needed to believe that the rules in some magical way protected the people he cared about the most, the only family he really had. He had to believe that adding this rule would prevent any more of them from dying like Jessica had, in the line of duty, fighting for her life.

Mac put the chalk back, grabbed his coat, and slipped out the secret door. He was greeted by cool, crisp fall air. Snow would come soon, wiping away old memories, getting ready for new ones to be put in place. And with any luck, those would be good ones…


	5. Officially Unofficial Booby Traps

5) Officially Unofficial Booby Traps

_Author's Note: And yes, yes. I know Booty Traps is spelled wrong. It's supposed to be spelled wrong. I was watching Goonies when this idea hit me. It's all Steven Spielberg and Chris Columbus' fault._

Adam couldn't have been more relieved to know that Haylen was leaving. Well, _maybe_ leaving. There hadn't been any definates yet, but if he knew Haylen, she was as good as gone!

He stared at the water fountain in the corner of The Wall, smiling. At least no one had gotten it in to his or her head to bring her here. That would have really gotten to him. The Wall was their personal hideaway and no job-stealing-rookie should ever be allowed in these hallowed halls.

Adam was amused by his thought, and his thoughts turned toward more geeky avenues about online gaming, avatars, and dreamy vampire Goth girls.

"Adam."

Adam smiled. Was that the avatar chick he kept trying to talk to online? She was cute.

"Adam."

Adam's eyes snapped open and he stared up at Flack. And Danny. They were so not the cute avatar chick or even a dreamy vampire Goth girl.

"Hi."

"Sleep here often?" Flack asked him.

"No. Why?"

"You're late for work," Danny told him.

Adam looked at his watch. It was well past six.

"CRAP!"

Adam jumped up and ran out of the room, not even seeing Mac and Stella across the room as he ran past them.

Mac slowly turned his head and settled a hard stare on Flack and Danny.

"Was that really necessary?" Mac asked.

The two started laughing. Mac couldn't hold a straight face. He pulled out a chair and sat down.

Stella settled into her favorite chair – it was formed with a tall back and upholstered with blue fabric. It fit her body like a glove, like it had been made just for her. After a month of Febreeze, she'd even gotten the strong sent of musk that disuse had left in it.

"That was evil. You two should be shot," she told them.

"I know… But it was classic and the classics never fail!" Danny sat down across from her.

Flack started to sit in a chair, but then changed his mind and chose a different one.

"You sit in a different chair every time we come here," Stella observed.

"This one's too soft, that one's too hard… I'm beginning to think I should bring my own chair."

They chuckled.

They looked up when Sheldon entered, with Adam.

"I hate you. I hate you all," Adam informed them.

Sheldon sat in his favorite chair: a wooden Spanish style, high backed chair with a seat that had the spots for the butt cheeks shaped. It was black with gold trim, and looked like the most uncomfortable chair in the room. The other's thought it was; Sheldon wasn't going to tell them it was actually very comfortable.

"Stella and I had no part in this prank," Mac told Adam.

The lab tech was deciding on which chair to sit on – and who was still his friend for the next twenty-four hours.

He chose one next to Stella. Mac's brow dipped when he noticed a strange, almost uncomfortable, look pass between the two, but it was quickly gone with a smile from each of them. He turned his mind away from it and sat back in his chair with a long, tired sigh. He pulled his tie loose.

"What a day," Mac said.

"Which part?" Sheldon asked. "Almost getting impaled? Almost getting roasted to death? Or almost getting washed away by a couple hundred gallons of water?"

Mac considered the questions. "I'll take all of the above and raise you a beer. Who wants one?"

The room answered 'me.' Mac retrieved two six packs from the refrigerator and sat down. The bubbling fountain filled the silence as they all swallowed long drinks. But it couldn't drown out the simultaneous 'ah' following it, which made them all laugh.

"Couldn't have timed that better if we tried," Danny said.

"Timing. Yeah. That's something you need," Flack told him.

"Me? What? What's wrong with my timing?"

"Let's talk last week when you went all Rainbow Six on me."

"What?"

Flack hopped up and wrote on the wall:

**

* * *

68. Guns do run out of ammo and you cannot run forever. **

* * *

Danny laughed.

"What was this?" Sheldon asked.

Flack sat down, sipped his beer and started his story. "Danny and I were talking to this guy. He's acting all nervous and suddenly he bolts. Kill'a here goes after him. Swears he's going to catch him. But this guy, he's thin and quick. Well, he didn't catch up to him. Lost him. But some uni's they caught up to him about eight blocks later and chase him into a dead end. Guy starts firing. We start firing. Everyone starts firing. Genius says we're going to be there a while. Guy's got a lot of ammo. Even called SWAT without us knowing it. The whole thing turned into a three ring circus!"

"I'm trading you in for a new best friend," Danny informed Flack.

"You wish!"

"I'm trading you both in for a detective and CSI that aren't likely to get my chops busted every time they pull stunts like that," Mac threatened.

"Hey!" the two retorted.

"Well, don't feel too bad, boys." Stella leaned on the table, grinning across Adam at Mac. "Because word travels fast, and in response to that little shoot and run fiasco, our straight laced supervisor got himself in his _own_ hot water."

Mac laughed, surprising them with how long it lasted. It enticed them all to join in.

"Just how much trouble was it, Mac?" Sheldon asked.

Mac started crying he was laughing so hard. "Ohhhh. I'm lucky to have a job. Let's just say that."

"What did he say?" Danny asked Stella.

"Oh no. This is a learn-by-example. Let _him_ tell you."

Mac leaned on the table, still laughing. It took him another few minutes to collect himself and stop laughing and a good clearing of the throat before he stood, walked to the wall, and added:

**

* * *

69. When delivering a report to the mayor or my superior, I will not proposition it with, "Which version of the truth would you like to hear?" (_Inspired by Augusta_) or following their recommended discipline with, "I'll enforce that when Godzilla lays eggs at the Garden!"**

* * *

"OH MY GOD!" Adam cried, but, like the CSI and Flack, he was laughing so hard he couldn't say much more.

Finally able to talk, Danny whimpered, "I don't know whether to fear you, or thank you."

Mac just drank his beer.

"Mac, I didn't know you watched movies like that," Adam commented.

"I don't."

"But… How did you know about that scene?"

"I have no idea! I'm sure it had something to do with some case somewhere in my career. Or… What's still left of it."

"How much hot water are you in?"

"I have a… _mention_ of insubordination in my file. It's not the first time."

Flack held his hand out to Mac. "You, Mac, find ways to keep me amazed. Thank you. And Danny's wife thanks you. Mostly because without you, he'd be unemployed after that disaster he single handedly created."

Mac shook his hand. "Tell Danny's wife she's welcome; just don't let him happen again."

"Don't let _him_ happen again? What's that supposed mean?"

They just laughed.

"I gotta rule." Sheldon added:

**

* * *

70. Do not go searching for evidence in the 'human fry room' alone.**

* * *

"You said you had it," Mac reminded him.

"I had it. I did. And with you and Stella walking around in there, the last thing I expected was finding a way to trip it."

"You're lucky, you know," Danny told him.

"I know. People were right outside."

"Uh-uh. That's not why you were lucky. See, back in the old days the black guy, he always died in the horror movie. Right along with the perky breasted blond bimbo, or the guy with enormous amounts of testosterone."

Sheldon looked sidelong at him. "You."

"Me?"

"Yes. You there. I don't like you."

That set everyone but Mac and Sheldon off in another round of laughter.

"I'm impressed." Mac told him. "That was a good come back."

Sheldon lifted his can. "To wit, and good use of it."

Mac tapped his can to his. The two drank their beers.

"So wait…" Danny got a hold of himself. "Hold on a second. I was in that room, and that phone, it was on the hook when I was in there."

"Yeah. I put it back up after Stella and I found it," Mac told him.

"But it was off when I went in after we got Sheldon out. So—"

"Moving on," Sheldon said.

"Sheldon," Flack said.

Sheldon smiled, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"You used the phone? Even after we told you it was disconnected?" Stella asked.

"The room was going to turn me into a human pancake. In a panic, I tried. You would have too."

"Oh. See. Now here's a perfectly good need for a rule we'll probably never need again anyway, but why not…" Flack got up and added:

**

* * *

71. If the phone that's in the 'human fry room' didn't work for the dead guy that was just removed, it's unlikely to work for you.**

* * *

"Thanks. Thanks, Don. I needed that. Thank you."

"Anytime."

"Well, hey, if we're on rules about crazy, spooky houses," Danny added:

**

* * *

72. Always search the house in numbers that are _not_ divisible by two, or by yourself, and never at night.**

* * *

"This is starting to turn into a horror movie rule list, guys," Adam pointed out.

Using a Greek accent she reserved for special occasions, Stella told him, "All the more reason to continue, deary!"

They started laughing again. The door opened and they looked up, but couldn't stop laughing. Lindsey walked in, smiling. She held Lucy in her arms and the laughter made the little girl smile.

"What am I missing? I can hear you guys down the hall!"

"It's a good day to be on The Wall Crew," Mac told her. "A really good day."

She sat down next to Danny, planting a kiss on his cheek since he couldn't stop laughing. Lindsey read the last few rules and smiled.

"So we're talking about the crazy penthouse, huh?"

"Yep!" Danny's laughter died and he leaned out, kissing her. Then he took his daughter, kissed her cheek, and sat her on his lap. "Daddy's gut hurts from laughing so hard. You going to laugh hard too, honey?"

Lucy grabbed at his nose with a smile.

"I've thought of one. And it's his fault." Stella pointed at Mac.

"What?"

She added:

**

* * *

73. Never stick your hand into a dark empty space, bright open space, or any other space in a house set on killing you.**

* * *

"Oh no! I won't take that blame. You willing stuck your hand over those vases. I was just watching."

"And you stuck your hand in a clock. You're no smarter than I am!"

"You just got burned, Mac. Burned bad!" Danny laughed.

He just shrugged it off.

Adam added:

**

* * *

74. If it looks like it came straight out of Amityville, leave it three for the next sucker.**

* * *

"What did we take?" Flack asked.

"Nothing. But if we're doing haunted house and horror stories, might as well get that out there."

"Good. Good." Flack added:

**

* * *

75. Beware of penthouses with mysteriously appearing rooms.**

* * *

"But this 'un's better."

"The room was there," Mac told him.

"I swear to you, Mac, the room was _not_ there."

"It had to have been."

"It was not there. The room was absolutely not there."

"It was there. You just need glasses."

"It was not there!"

"Oh boys! If we're doing horror stories and haunted houses…" Lindsey said. She got up and added:

**

* * *

76. It is bad to 'surprise' your fellow CSI in crazed inventor's booty trapped penthouses, and deranged serial killer's underground apartments, or any other place that remotely resembles something straight out of a horror flick. Surprising them is a sure way to be reintroduced to their fist. On a first name basis. With feeling.**

* * *

"Is there a story behind that one?" Mac asked.

"Uh… Yeah. That bruise you noticed I had, after you caught Hollis Eckhart, it wasn't from any chase. It was from… My dearest, beloved, always sweet and kind, wife."

"You snuck up on me!"

"I wasn't sneaking. I was… Walking quietly."

"In the underground apartment of a serial killer."

"I was respecting your groove."

"You said 'Gotcha!' and grabbed my butt."

"I was…" Danny grimaced. "Respecting your groove?"

"Ohhhhhhhh."

"Mmmm. Danny," Mac began, "One husband to the other, I don't know if you figured out what that 'oh' means, but here's a little free advice. Lots of chocolate would be good now. Jewelry. And flowers."

"Lots, and lots, and _lots_ of flowers," Lindsey told Danny.

"It's December. I don't know if—"

"_Lots_ of flowers."

"But, honey, I love—"

"Lots of flowers," the others recited with her.

He forced a grin. "Lots of flowers. Check."

She looked away. Sighed. Flicked her hair back. "So? What's the next rule?"

They all laughed. Lucy giggled with them, encouraging them to join her.

"I have one," Adam said and added:

**

* * *

77. Not all clowns are evil.**

* * *

"Clowns? What case did we have clowns?"

"A co-worker of my cousin has a thing against clowns. Thinks they're evil or something."

"That's it. No more trips to Las Vegas for you!" Flack told him. "You go visiting your cousin, and you bring back their strange and crazy Wall notions."

"But… The Wall was their notion to begin with."

"Adam," Stella said, faking she was being quiet. "That was a joke. You should laugh now."

"Oohhh." Adam laughed.

"That was the worst fake laugh I've heard in a long, long time," Flack told him.

Adam thought, and an ornery look came over him. Something they didn't get to see very often. "I love ya man! Hug?" Adam stood, extending his arms to him.

"I don't do man hugs. Sit. Sit!" Adam leaned toward him a little more. "Sit or I'll shoot!"

And the room erupted again.

Still laughing, Mac got up and wrote:

**

* * *

78. Beware of old homes that have been closed up for decades upon decades but from which a strange 911 call has come.**

* * *

They all raised their cans when he turned.

"And apartment or penthouses with 969 on them. We should'a know right there we had a problem," Danny added.

Stella said, "Ya know, it wouldn't have been so bad, if we could have just found the renovation blue prints."

"Oh. Now there's a good rule, Stella," Danny told her.

"So write it."

"I'm busy. I'm getting in some quality cuddle bug time here." Danny cuddled his little girl closer, using his most pathetic look on Stella.

She smiled, but gave in and wrote:

**

* * *

79. If the owner of the property was an inventor, and you're looking for a missing persons, never, ever expect the blueprints, no matter how updated, to tell you anything of any use or importance.**

* * *

"They told us important things," Mac said.

"Such as?" Stella asked.

"They told us what the apartment below looked like."

"And how was that of any relevance?"

"When I stomped on the bedroom floor above Danny, he was able to tell us to walk twenty steps in—"

"We only got nine on your side, twelve on mine. I ask again, such as?"

"We knew what it originally looked like."

"And you are not a surveyor any more than I am. So, I ask again, such as?"

"Okay. The blueprints told us little to nothing."

Stella leaned toward Lindsey. "Are you taking notes, Lindsey? Notice how we're always right even when we're wrong? That's the best way to keep the men where the belong... Mowing the lawn."

"Uhm... Danny... Who is that and can we get a refund on her?"

"Don't look at me. She's flipped. I can't fix her. That's Mac's job."

Stella sat back in her chair with a smug grin.

Mac shook his head and laughed. "And I call you friend. Ha!"

They laughed.

"So going back to Danny's remark that in any other scenario would have gotten him a black mark for racism…" Sheldon said as he stood and walked up to the wall. He wrote:

**

* * *

80. If the guy's girlfriend is an attractive blond with perky breasts and was crazy enough to go looking for him in the psychopathic inventor's home, it's a good chance she's going to die.**

* * *

"She didn't die," Flack said.

"I know. I know. But… If we're going along the lines of horror movies… She would have."

Lindsey did a palm plant. "We work with boys. Little boys!"

"I know. It takes all I have just to be their mother some days," Stella told her.

"Mother?" was the simultaneous come back.

"Sure. Why not? He's dad." She hiked a thumb at Mac.

"No. Oh no!" Mac retaliated.

"Sure. It works." She turned to Adam. "So let's talk about the water gun you brought when you first came to the penthouse to pick up evidence."

He smiled, if only to hide his guilt. "What water gun?" he asked between his teeth.

"The one in your kit. You thought I didn't see it, but I did."

"I… Have no clue what you're talking about."

"Uh-huh. I asked the coroner what you told him when he asked about it." She added:

**

* * *

81. Water guns filled with holy water are not necessary, even if the crime scene is believed to be haunted.**

* * *

Adam laughed nervously, glancing at Mac. "Oh. That water gun. I had it there in case…"

"In case?" Mac asked.

"Well… In case of…"

"Go on."

"Uhm… Vampires. Yeah. In case of vampires."

"You've been watching Supernatural again, haven't you?" Danny asked.

"No!"

"I can tell when you have. You start carrying around that stupid water gun filled with holy water."

"It's for evidence. It's purified water, you know."

Danny looked over the rim of his glasses. "It's tap water that's been blessed. Don't try to out-Catholic a devote Catholic."

Adam smiled a genuine smile. "Well… At any rate. I'm vampire safe with it."

Mac reached out and patted his shoulder. "Adam… If I didn't keep you around, I'm afraid most days would be dull."

"Really?"

"Really. If nothing else, you surprise me in ways I never expected to be surprised. And at times, in ways I wish to never be surprised again."

"It's about the vampires, isn't it?"

"It's about taking a water gun filled with holy water to a crime scene because you think it's haunted."

"One can never be too safe."

Mac started to say something, the stopped. "Sure." Because what else could he say to someone taking precautions against things that didn't exist?

And the room erupted in another round of laughter. Mac just smiled and sipped his beer.

"So, Mac, do you recall what you said before you got the light up in the bedroom?" Flack asked as he stood and walked to the wall.

"Don't look at the light? It's going to be very bright?"

"Uh-uh. Before that."

"No."

Flack wrote:

**

* * *

82. The worst, and inevitably last, thing you should say in an apartment, penthouse, or house bent on killing you is, "What else could possibly go wrong at this point?"**

* * *

"I… Forgot about that. Completely."

"Old age creeping up on ya?" Danny asked.

Mac gave him a 'shad'up' look, but in The Wall, it wasn't very effective and only made the CSI laugh.

"Which, of course, led to finding the riddle," Sheldon said as he stood. He continued talking as he walked to the wall and added the next rule. "This led to the winding of the clock. That led to releasing the trap door with the water in it. This then led to a rush of water gushing from the wall."

**

* * *

83. Water and cameras never do well together.**

* * *

Sheldon looked back at the table. "And our fearless leader and his assistant fearless leader and our favorite detective, didn't have the foresight to move their kits and cameras out of the room before doing this."

"We were trying to save a girl's life, Sheldon," Mac told him.

"Yes, but…" Sheldon walked back to his chair and sat down. "But… If one of us had done it…"

"Uh-huh," Lindsey said. "If it'd been one of _us_ that had done it…"

"That's right. If one of us had done it…" Danny threw in.

"It's true. If it had been one of us…" Adam finished.

"Does it count that I already have been written up once this month?" Mac asked.

The four shook their heads.

He looked over at Stella. "I think we're in trouble."

"I think so too."

"I think you should buy us pizza for being good subordinates and not making a big stink out of it," Lindsey told them.

"Oo! I second that." Sheldon said.

"All in favor, raise your hands," Lindsey said.

Stella and Mac laughed when they did, and Danny pulled Lucy's arm up to add to it.

"All apposed?"

Stella raised her hand. Mac just laughed.

"Majority rules. Meet us at Anthony's," Danny said.

There was a flurry of motion, chairs scuffing along the floor, and chatter kicked up as bodies moved toward the door.

They didn't seem to notice Mac sat, watching them. They took the side door, their secret entrance into their world. He heard it close behind them, and then all that was left was the bubbling fountain. Mac got up and collected their cans, putting them in the trash. He put away the rest of the beers, then picked up his beer and walked over to the chair by the fountain. It was his favorite chair. He's spent a lot of time in it reading, or sleeping, or just watching the bubbling water.

He turned his head when he heard the door open, expecting one of them had returned to drag him along with them. Mac quickly stood, staring at Chief Sinclair. He was acutely aware he was holding a beer, in the precinct. But he was more concerned that his supervisor had just walked into a room he'd been keeping a secret, and had wanted to remain that way. Sinclair didn't speak right away. He stared at Mac, perhaps thinking of all the ways he was going to get rid of him now.

Sinclair turned and closed the door behind him. Then he turned back to Mac. He started walking toward him. His eyes pulled away and he stopped, looking around the room. His gaze stopped on the fountain.

"Aren't you going to offer me a beer, Taylor?" he asked.

Mac hesitated. "Sir?"

"Sure. I'd like one."

Mac retrieved one from the refrigerator and handed it to him. He opened it and drank some as he continued a slow walk around the room until he was back at the same place he'd started. Mac waited. He stood close to the chair he'd just sat in and laughed till his sides hurt, as if it were some sort of sentinel that would defend his honor and the sanctity of the room.

The door burst open and Stella pranced in. Her face was flushed from the cold and she was smiling, until she saw Sinclair. She looked at Mac, worry in her eyes. Slowly she shut the door and joined him.

"How'd you get the money to redo this room?" Sinclair asked them.

"Out of our pockets. Most of the furniture was free. Curb side."

He nodded. He turned, gazing at the fountain. "Who did this? It looks professional. I didn't sign any papers for this."

"CSI Monroe, now Messer, and Adam Ross put it together. They did all the renovations in this room. Again, out of pocket. No city funds were used."

Sinclair nodded. He walked over to the table, chose a chair and sat down. He drank some before he looked up at them.

"Join me."

Stella and Mac sat down across from him. Mac sat his beer on the next chair, out of sight. He didn't wish to bring any more attention to the situation than was already there.

Stella's phone rang. She looked at it, and then answered it. "Hey. Not now. Lindsey, not now. I'll tell you later. Bye."

"Where were they off to in such a hurry?"

"We're meeting for pizza."

He nodded. He looked up, at the rules, and stared. "Those look like rules."

"Yes, sir. They are," Mac answered.

"You get together and write rules on the walls?"

"Yes, sir."

"Rules for what?"

"When events happen or we do things wrong, we write rules on the wall to remind us not to do it again."

"What are they written in?

"Chalk."

He nodded again. Drank some more beer. "I heard laughing when I came down to get a closed file. You and your team must have just gotten here. Listened to everything." He looked right at Mac. "I've never heard you joke like that, Taylor."

"I'm sorry, sir. I guess I haven't had the occasion in your presence."

"That's a shame. You're pretty funny."

"Yes, sir."

Sinclair sighed. "So… How does one get you to relax when you're in here?"

"Sir," Stella started. She moved her leg against Mac's under the table. It was an unspoken way she told him to let her talk. He tapped his against hers. He was willing to let her. "Pardon our bluntness here, but… Why are you here? Other than you heard us laughing."

"It's not the first time." Sinclair looked at the door. "We need to get another door on there. I've had reports of hearing people talking in this room."

The two looked at the door, then each other. Sinclair drank his beer, and then met their eyes.

"Every time I've been down here and heard it, you guys… You're relaxing. It's good for your team, Taylor. I honestly wasn't sure what I'd find when I came in here tonight, but I'd decided that tonight, I was going to find out what was in here. I'm surprised, and pleased, to see this. It's much more legal than what I thought it was."

"We really don't want the entire precinct to know, sir."

"I know."

"But you'll tell them anyway?" Stella asked.

Sinclair shook his head. "No. But I do want a key. I might want to come down here and hide from the world. It's nice down here. Quiet."

"So… We can keep The Wall?" Mac asked.

Sinclair's eyebrows lifted. His surprise was obvious. Then he smiled.

"Yes, Mac, you get to keep The Wall. Is that what this room is called?"

Mac felt little embarrassed. He'd become so used to referencing the room as The Wall it had just come out. He wasn't sure he wanted to answer that.

"We do," Stella said.

"Who came up with this idea? This room for you and your team to gather in and, from the sounds of it, work on team building."

Mac almost smiled. Almost. That hint about 'team building' said more than anything that could come out of Sinclair's mouth. He must have realized how important this place was to Mac's team, how much it meant to them. What he didn't realize was that if he took it away, Mac suspected his team would probably retaliate. They depended on this room, and given the stress of their jobs, needed it. In short, the 'team building' reference meant that Sinclair knew just enough that their room would be safe, but not so much that all their secrets and the magic in it would be destroyed.

"Adam Ross. He got the idea from his cousin who works with the Las Vegas crime lab."

"They have one?"

"Like us, only a select few know about it, but yes. They do."

"Does it look like this?"

Stella got up and retrieved the pictures from the desk. She handed them over to Sinclair. He looked through them.

"Too bad swing doesn't have something like this. I can only imagine what kinks it would work out for them."

"Perhaps there's another room in the building David could use. On another floor, maybe."

Sinclair looked up. He smiled. "There is. In the attic. We used to use it for… Parties, back in the day. Yeah. That might work." Sinclair sat the pictures on the table. "Thanks for the idea, Taylor. And the beer." Sinclair got up and headed for the door. "Don't forget that key."

"I won't, sir."

The door closed behind him. Stella and Mac sat for several long minutes. She looked at him.

"Did that just happen?"

He smiled. "Yes."

"I can't believe he didn't decide to just shut it down."

"He's not all bad, you know. He is human."

She looked at the door. "I guess this just proves it, doesn't it?"

"I think so. Put the pictures away and let's go. The kids'll start non-stop texting if we don't go feed them."

Stella laughed. "Kids."

Mac and Stella left the room. Mac locked the door behind him and they went out the side exit. He looked back as the door closed, seeing Sinclair standing in the hall, waiting for the elevator.

Sometimes even he was reminded Sinclair was just another human, looking for a connection to other humans, however awkward.


	6. The Wall Brood

6) The Wall Brood

"Do you ever go home?"

Adam almost couldn't pull himself out of the fog of sleep. The entire shift had been nothing but running across the five Burroughs. And what was it mostly for? To collect evidence and bring it back – a damned courier job.

"Whah?" Adam muttered.

"I asked do you ever go home? I find you sleeping here more often than not, and it's gotten worse the last few weeks."

Adam blinked. He could make out the person standing next to the sofa, even knew the voice, but his brain was still steeped in sleep fog to make an immediate connection.

"I…" A yawn cut off his response. He pulled the pillow over his head. "Ten more minutes. Just ten more."

The person chuckled, a warm friendly chuckle.

"I did that when I was a kid. Saturdays were the worse."

Adam peeked out from under the pillow at Mac's smile. He liked smiling Mac the most. And it was impossible not to reflect it.

"What were those days like?" Adam asked, pushing the pillow back and under his head.

Mac shrugged. "Lazy. Sometimes we went to the zoo, or the museum. During the summer we saw a lot of baseball games. My dad loved baseball." Mac sat down in a nearby chair. He looked at the waterfall – Adam noticed it drew his attention more than anything else in the room, save the rules. "And when school was over for the summer, we'd go to a lake a few times to camp and fish."

Adam smiled. That sounded like a fairy tale.

Mac looked at him. "What was your boyhood like?"

Adam's smile wilted. He sat up and stretched his back.

"I was just taking a nap before my next shift."

"Next shift?"

"I'm picking up a double for swing. Covering for Jerry. She decided she wanted to spend some time with her husband after all." Adam stood. "Better get going."

Mac nodded. "That's good. Cancer's never a good thing to go alone. But doesn't her shift start at two in the morning? It's only eleven."

"Is it?" He glanced at his watch. "I must have really been out. It feels like I'd been asleep all night."

"Don't let swing give you too many hours, Adam. I need you alert on my team."

"I know. I only promised tonight."

Mac nodded.

"What are you doing here at this time of night?"

Mac smiled. Adam sank back down onto the couch. There was something in this smile.

"I had a date. It went well."

"Not too well. You're here, and not there. With her."

Mac shot him a look that spoke volumes of his disapproval about that remark.

"I mean… Talking. You're not with her. Talking."

Mac laughed it off. He knew full well that was not what Adam meant, but the date must have been good for him to just laugh it off.

"Is she pretty?"

Mac nodded.

"How'd you two meet?"

"At a deli. Do you have a girlfriend, Adam?"

"No. I don't… Date much."

"Or talk about your childhood."

Adam looked down.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Adam wanted to say it was all right, but it wasn't. He didn't want to talk to anyone about his past. And his present wasn't very interesting to pretty much anyone, especially Mac.

"Adam."

He looked up. Mac was looking at the wall. When Adam didn't answer, Mac looked sidelong at him.

"Is that you? That last one?"

Adam blushed. He didn't have to look to know which one he was asking about.

Mac laughed again. He shook his head. But there was no disapproval in it. Just humor.

"You are as bad as Don and Danny."

"Oh no. I'm not that bad. I don't get in nearly as much trouble as they do."

Mac wagged his head from side to side. "That's true. They're special that way."

Adam laughed a little. Mac used 'special' to mean they sometimes acted as if they had mental disorders. It wasn't like him to use words like that, so he wondered if the man even realized he had done it.

"Let's see… I haven't been down here since… Rule number eighty-three." Mac got up and walked to the other end of the table. He sat down in his usual chair, staring up at the wall.

Adam walked to the other side, pausing at the refrigerator. "Do you want a drink?"

Mac looked at him. He smiled. "Sure. A soda."

"A soda?"

"At this time of night, yeah."

"A beer'd help you sleep."

Mac nodded. "Probably, but I still have to drive home."

Adam didn't press it. He picked out two cans, each their favorite, and walked down the table. He handed Mac his and sat down.

"I get so busy I sometimes forget about The Wall. That's a shame, isn't it? Look at all the things I could scold those two for."

Adam smiled. "Yeah. But they have such good stories behind them."

"Do they, now?" Mac looked at him, his smile turning ornery.

Another surprise. An ornery smile? From Mac? To him? That never happened. He'd seen him give Stella it, and even Lindsey, but it was rarely given to any of the men on his team. And certainly not Adam.

"So do I get to hear these stories?"

"I… Don't know that I should."

"It's on the wall. I'm not worried they'll repeat their mistakes. After all, isn't one of the rules of The Wall that you can't repeat the action that provoked it to be written?"

Adam laughed. That was a strange way to word it but yes that was a rule.

"Okay. But you never heard any of this from me."

"Not even if they torture me. Start at eighty-four."

**

* * *

84. When processing any scene of height, there is no need to climb to the top and yell, "I am king of the world." You aren't, and if you were, we wouldn't care. (**_**Inspired by BobbyandLindsay4Ever**_**)**

* * *

"You were there. You don't remember?" Adam asked.

"No. What don't I remember?"

"That was Danny at the Regent Center. We had that guy found on the roof. Looked like he'd been dropped out of an airplane."

"I remember it. He wasn't. He was a jumper from a nearby building and the wind shear picked him and threw him on the roof."

"Yeah. Seriously? You didn't hear Danny do that? We all did. Stella gave him hell for it."

"Guess I was focused on something else." Mac smiled. "But I would have loved to have seen Stella give him hell for it."

Adam grinned. "It was good. And worse, it was in front of his wife. So when she got done with him—"

"Lindsey finished what parts hadn't been chewed, I bet."

"Yeah. But you know what he did?"

"I can only imagine."

"He stuck his tongue out at both when their backs were turned. He thought no one saw him, but I saw him."

Mac laughed.

**

* * *

85. Humans will occasionally stumble over the truth, but most of the time he or she will pick themself up, and continue on as though nothing has happened.**

* * *

"Sheldon wrote that."

"I can see that. Why?" Mac asked.

"He was talking to this girl who kept saying she didn't start the fire, didn't start the fire, didn't start the fire, insisted she didn't start the fire in her apartment. He and the fire investigator determined it started in the bathroom but they couldn't tell what started it. There were plenty of things that could have. Well, Sheldon noticed that this curling iron was set to on, and that there were these melted wig heads. So he asks the woman about her hair. She admits, she wears wigs. He asks if she wore one that day. She said no. He asks if she curled her hair. She said she did put one curl in it, for style. He asks if she remembers turning off the curling iron. She gets this glazed look on her face."

"Like a deer in headlights?" Mac asked.

Adam nodded. "Then she says. 'Oh! Someone knocked on my door after I put that curl in. I went to answer it. Did you turn my curling iron off for me?' He swears that for that brief moment, when her face glazed, that she really did know she started the fire. But then, bam, it was gone. Stupidity kicked back in."

Mac laughed. "And the next is his handwriting to. Something different?"

**

* * *

86. The more fantastic the lie the more likely it's true.**

* * *

"Yes. Flack called him down to the station. Said this guy was caught walking down the street with a box full of purses, iPods, stuff that he shouldn't be walking down the street with. The guy goes into this story, huge story. Great story. Starts with this stranger asking him to hold the box, but then he got hungry, went for a bite, came back, and this other guy comes along and tries to take it. So he fends him off, runs off, and gets stopped by this guy with a talking dog. Dog tells him to take the stuff to the pawnshop so he can give it to the first guy and that's where he was headed when the cops stopped him. Turns out, he broke into some cars and stole the stuff."

"With that imagination, he should get into movies."

"Or something.

**

* * *

87. 'I had to see how long it actually takes,' or 'I was simulating the crime scene to determine the longevity of the microbes that would remain after seven days in darkness' is no excuse for utilizing city and forensic equipment to make moonshine – in the basement – in a janitor closet. (**_**Inspired by Augusta**_**)**

* * *

"That's your handwriting, Adam."

"I know."

"That's your handwriting, Adam."

Adam looked away.

"Adam, why is that your handwriting and why don't I know about this?"

"You know… You should make them pay Stella more. She does your job a lot when your busy or backed up or stuff."

"Adam, why is that your handwriting?"

"Well… You see…" Adam stopped.

"No. I don't see. Spit it out."

Adam sighed. "See, there was this moonshine evidence that Lindsey and Danny collected. And, well, we had questions about moonshine. And none of us had ever—"

"None of whom? Who was all involved here?"

"Well… Stella and Lindsey weren't. At all. Or slightly. That's something, isn't it?"

"You, Danny, and Don. I should have—"

"And Sheldon. And two janitors. We sort of had to have them involved. They wouldn't let us set it up if we didn't. But I swear to you, Mac, we were doing it for the evidence. Well… We were. The janitors, it turns out, were doing it for the money. That's how the whole thing blew up. Patrol caught them selling to three minors, one thin led to another, they gave away the still. Our experiment was ruined."

"In a janitor's closet? Why?"

"Cuz that's where the still was in the house that blew up."

"A still blew a house up?"

"No. The meth lab blew the house up. That's what we were able to determine from the data we did get."

"But until then you didn't know that?"

"Uhm… No. You said we couldn't get in trouble if it was written on the wall."

"You're not in trouble. I'm just enjoying scolding you because you're the only one here to scold."

"Uhm…" Adam blinked. "Is that… I don't know where to go with that, Mac."

"Back to the how you knew it wouldn't blow up before then?"

"One of the janitor's uncle told us they were safe and even sent us his schematics for his still."

"This uncle is running a still and Don didn't arrest him?"

"He's out of our jurisdiction. _Way_ out of our jurisdiction. He lives in Virginia."

Mac let his head fall back, but he laughed. "Oh my God! You are all lucky you aren't fired."

"The janitors are fired."

"That because they sold it, Adam. But you four should be ashamed you even tried it without telling anyone."

"We learned a lot. Just think of it this way – somewhere down the road, a case with another still will come up, and we'll already know everything there is to know and then some."

Mac looked at him with narrowed eyes. "And then some?"

Adam made a face. "You have to have a steel gut and no taste buds to drink moonshine. It's nasty! Tastes like rubbing alcohol. And that was just the teaspoon we all tried just to see. It's total gut rot! I would never, ever want to do it again."

"Good! Now that's out of the way, I can laugh about it."

Adam smiled.

**

* * *

88. All clergy must be presumed guilty until proven innocent.**

* * *

"Oh. Yeah. That's Sid. He kept telling Flack not to trust this priest that kept coming to see the body of this dead guy. Turns out, he was right. Guy killed him because he was gay. Stupid, really."

"Yeah." Mac nodded. "That's a very illogical reason to kill anyone.

**

* * *

89. You are not allowed to impose a surcharge on disruptive or brusque suspects.**

**90. It is bad to retort to an unruly reporter, "I'm not the girl your mother warned you about. Her imagination was never this good."**

* * *

"Did Danny do those?"

"No," Adam answered. A huge grin creased his lips.

"Don?"

"Uh-uh."

"Sheldon? Or you?"

"Nope!"

"Not Stella."

"No."

Mac stared at the writing. He looked at Adam. "Lindsey?"

Adam nodded.

"Lindsey!?"

He nodded again.

Mac wilted a little. He scrubbed his fingers over his forehead.

"I never thought she'd succumb to you boys and your pranks."

"Come on, Mac! You've seen her after hours. She's got more spunk than all of us combined. And the things she'll do! I don't think she knows what fear is."

"She does. She just ignores it. But a surcharge?"

"Stella scolded her for it and we all laughed when she told the reporter that. You were gone for a couple days, so Sinclair had a talk with Stella. She told us she told him she'd talk to Lindsey."

"She told us?"

"Yeah. We were at lunch. She told us."

"With Lindsey there?"

"Yes."

"And then what happened?"

"They started talking about their shopping plans for Saturday."

"Mac chuckled and shook his head.

**

* * *

91. I will not threaten to pour Menthos and diet cola down an uncooperative suspect's throat. (**_**Submitted by DustBunnyQueen**_**)**

**92. When dealing with a person who has multiple personalities, we do not ask an alter to come back because it was 'more cooperative and in a better mood.'**

* * *

"Don?" Mac asked.

"Yeah."

"I didn't hear about this, either."

"This is one of those you aren't his boss, but his boss did and he didn't appreciate it. At all."

"No. He doesn't have much of a sense of humor."

"Does he have _any_ sense of humor?"

Mac opened his mouth to answer. He closed it. Thought about it. Then changed the subject.

**

* * *

93. I am not a precognitive. I will not claim to have seen the crime scene before I've seen the crime scene.**

* * *

"You?"

"Me."

"I don't want to know."

**

* * *

94. I will not admit there is a whodunit betting pool anywhere in the building. (**_**Submitted by VessaMorana**_**)**

* * *

"There's a whodunit pool?"

"Couldn't say."

"You can't?"

"I know nothing about it."

"So you do know something about it?"

"I presume that I know nothing about a whodunit pool. Especially since there's a rule stating I can't admit it."

"Who would have admitted it if there was one?"

"Well, not saying that there is such a pool, as that would be unethical, but if there was, than any and all parties involved in that pool, would probably have asked Sheldon to withdraw his bet when he may or may not have accidentally told Sid, who told Stella, who mentioned it to Sinclair, that he may or may not have lost the whodunit pool that may or may not have been run two weeks ago tomorrow. Saying, of course, there was such a thing as a whodunit pool, which I'm of course not saying that there is."

Mac stared at him. Adam stared back, not a hint of smile on his face. Mac sighed.

"Adam, did you always want to be a lab tech or CSI?"

Adam blinked.

"I… Well… I decided to do it six years ago."

"Did you? What intrigued you?"

"The science."

"So you like hard science or probability?"

"They're equally interesting."

"You seem to do a lot with probability when we have technology involved."

"Yeah. Well, probability allows for seeming artificial intelligence."

"When is the next whodunit pool?"

"Thursday." Adam paused and then blurted, "Oh, daaamn!"

Mac smiled. Adam leaned forward and tapped his forehead on the table.

"They are going to ban me! Ban me! Ban me!" Adam told the table.

Mac laughed. "They aren't going to ban you."

He looked up. "They aren't?"

"I don't care if there's a pool. Just as long as that's the last time I hear about it."

"Really?"

"Really."

Adam sat up. "Really?"

"Adam." Mac pointed at the rules.

**

* * *

95. The more ridiculous a belief system, the higher the probability of its success.**

* * *

"Vampire cult?" Mac asked.

"Dead on, Mac."

**

* * *

96. When all else fails, follow instructions.**

* * *

"Who," Mac began, "and what is that about?"

"Stella plus a new smart phone equals lots of words in Greek I probably don't want to have interpreted."

Mac laughed. "Probably not."

"But you want to know what's worse?"

"Hm?"

"Stella plus a TIVO."

"That's worse?"

"_Much_ worse. She was cussing when she called. She was cussing when I got there. She was cussing when I left. In Greek. So I actually don't know if she was cussing, but the tone sounded like it.

"She was cussing."

**

* * *

97. Mannequins are not humans; therefore, you do not need to give them the front passenger seat on the ride back to the lab.**

* * *

"Flack returns!" Adam said, lifting his arms in victory.

Mac stared at him. Adam put his arms down. He smiled. Mac returned that.

"He has a thing for mannequins, I think," Adam said.

"He does. He says they remind him of Barbies."

"Barbies?" Adam asked. "That sounds… Odd."

"It's not, really. He told me that when he was younger, and his sister made him play with her, he would pull off the heads or limbs and tell her that they had to be buried now because they were dead. He says the two houses they grew up in have hundreds of Barbies buried around them. But it got him out of playing Barbies. Now, he laughs when he sees mannequins because they remind him of all the Barbies buried at his childhood houses."

Adam laughed. "Greg used to do that to this cousin of ours, except with her horses. He'd break the legs, tell her that when a horse broke his leg, it had to be shot and buried. So we'd paint red dots on the foreheads with nail polish and go bury them."

"Did you get in a lot of trouble?"

Adam almost lost his smile. "Well… Not at his house. Not when he was around at mine."

Mac tilted his head a little. "But you did when it was just you?"

Adam drank some of his soda. He pointed up at the next rule.

**

* * *

98. Not all crazy, homeless women are named Delta Dawn.**

**99. We do not refer to dancing homeless men in detox as Mr. Bojangles.**

* * *

"Lindsey's roots came out with those two."

"Her roots?"

"Yeah. She said back in Bozeman, when they pulled in those types of people, and they didn't know who they were, that's the temporary names they'd give them. That's how they can quickly tell the dead Jane and Johns from the boozed up ones in their computers. So she just brought it here. But Flack's supervisor gets really offended when she calls them that. She says she'll probably still do it because it's habit, but Flack promised to make sure she didn't when his boss was around."

"I've never heard her call a homeless man or woman that."

"It surprised me when I did. I know the song Mr. Bojangles, but not the other. And when I listened to both of them, I still don't get what upset him about it."

"Me neither. I think it's nice that they have names like that for them. It gives them an identity until they can figure out who they are. Jane and John Doe just make me think of dead people."

"They… Do?"

Mac nodded.

Adam looked at his soda can. "I never knew that."

"Now that… I remember, Adam. All too well."

**

* * *

100. I will not sing all the naughty bits of "I'm On A Boat!" while processing a boat.**

* * *

"That wasn't me."

"You took part."

"I didn't sing any naughty parts! I censored my version of it."

"You three were singing it on the prow, Adam. How can telling me you censored it make it any less offensive?"

Adam looked down. "But… The song is funny."

"Funny or not, you three were singing it on the prow at the top of your lungs."

"It was really noisy out there on the river."

Mac closed his eyes. "You know, I always thought I'd wait to have children some day. I did. I was never in a hurry. But you know what, Adam?"

"No? What?"

Mac looked at him. "I have you, Danny, and Don. I don't need children. I have you three."

Adam thought a moment, then threw his arms open. "We love ya, Dad!"

Mac waved him off. "I don't think so."

"You said it!" Adam pointed at him. "You. Said. It."

"Don't make me regret it, Adam."

"You said it!"

"I'm regretting it, Adam."

Adam let out a loud laugh of victory. Mac just sipped his soda, watching him with a smile that didn't move his mouth, but crinkled the crow's feet around his eyes. Adam puffed out his chest.

"I will have to tell them about this. That you finally, after all this time, admitted your role in our lives."

"Don't you dare."

"I will. I will."

"Adam, I'm really regretting it now."

Adam slouched back in his chair with a smile. "Fine. Okay. I'll say nothing."

**

* * *

101. I will not taunt another lab rat or CSI by saying 'there ain't no junk in that trunk' after catching them staring a hot suspect's arse. (**_**Inspired by **_**_the . blue . power . ranger . x_****)**

* * *

"Oh. That's Flack to Sheldon. Sheldon looked about ready to pop him one for that.

"He didn't, did he?"

"No. Just about. But what he did do is grab Flack's ear and drag him outside. I didn't hear what they said, but it was loud enough we knew they were arguing. When they came in, they started speaking through me. Like two little kids. But I kept getting the messages messed up – on purpose! They finally started talking to each other and then everything was over. It was there and gone. And Flack later told me he thought she was pretty hot too."

Mac laughed.

**

* * *

102. Due to the highly superstitious nature that has resulted in nefarious and misfortunate circumstance, the following phrases are henceforth banned from being uttered at, close to, in the neighborhood of, on the way to, or on the way from, a crime scene: "How bad could it be?" "Nothing else can go wrong now." "We've seen the worst of it." "It's been such a quiet/slow/peaceful/uneventful shift/day." "The suspect is mostly harmless." "Where exactly could she hide a weapon? She's naked." "We'll have enough luminal." "Nothing like a quiet drive in the country." "Oh! Look at the cute puppy." "We should take the Hazmat suits out so we have more room back here." "Hey. What do ya think this does?" or "What could possibly go wrong?" (**_**Inspired by Augusta**_**)**

* * *

"Stella wrote that for all occasions. She says she hopes it covers everything, but if not, she'll just write an addendum somewhere."

"You guys don't really think saying all that actually jinxes your shifts or crime scenes, do you?

"Can you prove it doesn't?"

Mac started to retort. He couldn't. He had no proof. "Skipping ahead, can you tell me exact times that those phrases allegedly caused problems?"

"Okay. But it's going to take some time."

"I have all night. Shoot."

" Here we go. Now 'How bad could it be?' 'Nothing else can go wrong now.' 'We've seen the worst of it.' 'It's been such a quite/slow/peaceful/uneventful shift/day.' 'What could possibly go wrong?' and 'Hey. What do ya think this does?' are all pretty generic wordages, said most days, and most frequently causing us problems. But the others, now they have some very unique situations that they stemmed from. Starting with 'The suspect is mostly harmless' Flack told that to Danny as this guy accused of murdering this woman is sitting in the back of his car. Just sitting there, looks like he's gone to fairyland. So I ask if he's okay to process for GSR. That's what Flack tells me about the guy. I go over, get ready to test his hands, pick one up. The next thing I know, I'm in the emergency room with a concussion, Danny's got a bite on his arm, Flack's been stabbed in the hip, and the guy had escaped. We blame Flack for that one."

Adam continued. "Again, Flack, tells Danny, 'Where exactly could she hide a weapon? She's naked.' Danny gave him this look. Clearly he's remembering our last bad phrase and where he ended up – he had to get a whole barrage of shots cuz a human bit him. Anyway, he tells Flack if he's so sure she's harmless, he needs to go examine her for trauma. Flack goes over and must of got to close or something. The officers swear he never touched her, even if to this day he can't remember what happened. One minute he's there talking to her, that we all see. The next minutes she's using all these Jujitsu moves and beating the crap out of him. They had to tazer her. And that's the day we learned that weapons, don't necessarily have to be another part of your body. Apparently, in New York, when you reach black belt in martial arts, you have to register you body as a weapon. She was."

Mac shook his head. "And she just went off? No warning?"

"None. I'm sure they're having fun with her wherever they're hiding her away at. So the next one is Lindsey on her second week on the job. Danny told me this story. They're called to a homicide; dispatch tells them a chainsaw was used to kill a family of four. Danny says they should get more luminal, Lindsey tells him 'We'll have enough luminal.' They get to the crime scene. It's a blood bath. Blood in places you probably wouldn't imagine. They photographed, and then start using luminal. There is blood from other murders there. And by the time they got done, and four trips to the lab and back, they'd gone through nearly a gallon of luminal to cover the entire town home. It was brutal. Danny was on the verge of firing her himself for that. The next two are also a Lindsey-and-Danny-at-their-finest-moments. Really. Do you need me to tell you the stories behind 'Nothing like a quiet drive in the country' or 'Oh! Look at the cute puppy'?"

"No. No. My imagination fills in the blanks with those two.

"So the last one is Stella, to me, when we were cleaning out her Denali."

"Oh really? Now this one I haven't heard."

"No. You wouldn't. Because she made me swear secrecy. She wouldn't even tell the others about it. But since it's you, I don't mind. We were cleaning it out two months ago. And she says, 'I've been carrying these damned things around for a year and never needed them. We should take out the Hazmat suits so we have more room back here for more equipment.' I tell her that's probably not a good idea. She never knows where a crime scene will take her. She insists, and you know what she's like when she's made up her mind."

"Do I."

"So we took them out. That afternoon we're called to a laboratory. Where they make flu vaccines. Where the suspect was killed in a lab with a live flu virus. And where we needed HAZMAT suits. I wouldn't go in. Refused. She gave me a hard time and went in. Now you know why she was out with the flu."

Mac laughed. "No wonder she was more grumpy than normal about it."

"Hindsight. Looks great in the rearview."

"I see we're putting a stop, finally, to this one."

**

* * *

103. Addendum: Toes and fingers are also considered severed appendages, are not considered suspects, and do not need to be read Miranda rights.**

* * *

"Yeah, but it always amused me when Flack and Danny read them their rights."

"Amusing and professional are rarely bedmates, Adam."

"Yeah, but doesn't fun on the job overrule professionalism."

"No."

Adam frowned.

"I credit you for attempting a compromise, but not what you did to the gold bars."

**

* * *

104. It is bad to lick, sniff, snort, caress, fondle, or otherwise molest bars of gold in, around, near, or in close proximity to my co-workers and/or bank personnel.**

* * *

"Tungsten bars," Adam corrected.

"Not all those bars in that vault were tungsten. Sheldon told me how you man-handled those bars."

"But I'd never been around so much pretty, shiny, beautiful gold in one place. It was… A light at the end of the tunnel. The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It was like opening a room full of dayshine and moonglow."

"What the hell is dayshine?"

"Oh. That's sunlight. But, well, it's bright. Er."

Mac stared at him.

"You really need to watch more movies."

"I'm happy with the amount I watch."

"Okay." Adam looked at his watch. "Oh! I gotta get to work." He jumped up, heading for the door.

"Adam."

He stopped and turned.

"This was fun. Thanks for sticking around. And I'm sorry. I forget sometimes that you don't really like to discuss your past."

Adam turned and opened the door. He stepped out into the hall and stopped. He turned and opened the door. Mac was still in his chair.

"If I could go back to my childhood and change one thing, Mac, any one thing. I'd change dad's. I'd wish you'd been him."

He shut the door before Mac replied. He didn't want to hear a reply. He wanted to just pretend that anything Mac said was good and that there wasn't a disapproving look following it. He hurried to the elevator, glancing back, hoping Mac wouldn't decide to leave before he was gone. The elevator arrived and he stepped on, tapping the button repeatedly to get it to close.

#

The door shut before he could reply. Mac stared at the door, then smiled.

"Well, door, since he didn't wait around, I'll tell you. If I could grant you that wish, Adam, I wouldn't. Then I wouldn't get the honor of being your boss. You're a good man. Better than you're father ever was."

The door was silently neutral about the conversation. Mac just smiled, looking up at the rules. Yesterday had been good day. A very good day. Today was looking promising too.


End file.
